LOGINHey loves đ
Quick update...things might be a little slow around here for a bit. Iâm in the middle of preparing for an important exam this month, and honestly, my focus is split. I also feel like some of the earlier chapters arenât hitting the way I want them to, so I might go back and polish them up once my exam is out of the way.
I promise Iâm not abandoning the story, I just want to give you my best, and right now, my best will come after I get through this exam. Thank you for your patience and for sticking with me. Youâre the reason I keep writing. đ
â Feesa
VENUSThe drive home was quiet.Not the sharp, suffocating quiet that follows an argument. Not the kind that dares you to speak first. This silence didnât ask for anything at all. It simply existed, settled between us like something already agreed upon.The tires whispered against asphalt. The city blurred past the tinted windows, distant and irrelevant. George sat beside me, small hands folded in his lap, eyes trained on the passing shapes outside. He wasnât asleep, just withdrawn, like heâd tucked himself somewhere safe inside his own head.Aaron sat in the front passenger seat.Not beside me.But not far, either.He hadnât looked back since we left the clinic.That was the first thing I noticed.Not anger. Not withdrawal. Just⌠distance. âLetâs tighten the formation once we hit the bridge,â Aaron said calmly. âI donât want any lane drift.âThe driver acknowledged.Aaronâs voice was steady. Controlled. The same tone he used in boardrooms and crisis roomsâmeasured, deliberate, caref
AARONI didnât follow her.That was the first fracture.I stood there in the hallway, long after Venus disappeared into the therapy room, long after the sound of Georgeâs laughter softened into the therapistâs calm cadence. Long after the door clicked shut and sealed me out of my own family.I stood there because moving felt like choosing the wrong future.My chest was tight in that way I recognized too wellâthe pressure that came when instinct and restraint collided. When every part of me wanted to act, to intervene, to fix, but Iâd learned the hard way that force only made certain kinds of wounds fester.âYou donât know what youâre doing anymore.âIâd said it quietly. Carefully. Sheâd smiled.That was the moment something in me went cold.Not because of the words that followed. Those were sharp, yesâbarbed and preciseâbut words were weapons Venus had always known how to wield. No, it was the smile that did it. The controlled one. The deliberate one. The smile she used when sheâd al
VENUSâWhere were you?âI stopped a step short of him and let the pause stretch. Not too long, just enough to make it deliberate. Let him feel it.âBathroom,â I said.Flat. Boring. A closed door.Aaronâs eyes narrowed. âThat took longer than five minutes.ââDid you time me?â I asked mildly. The kind of tone that dares someone to make a mistake.Inside the room, George was already seated at the low table with the therapist, crayons scattered across the surface like spilled candy. The door remained open, a thin barrier between safety and fracture.Aaron shifted, angling his body so he blocked my line of sight to the hallway. His voice dropped.âYou donât disappear in places like this,â he said. âYou know that.âI shrugged and made to step past him toward the doorway.He caught my arm.Not rough. Not aggressive. Just firm enough to stop me.âThatâs not optional,â he added.Something sharp twisted in my chest. I looked down at his hand, then slowly back up at his face.âLet go,â I said.H
VENUSThe clinic rose before us like a block of clean intentionsâglass, steel, pale stoneâall polished to reassure. Sunlight bounced off the façade and into my eyes as the convoy slowed. Security fanned out, earpieces buzzing faintly, the world rearranging itself around us.George squeezed my hand as we stepped inside.âI donât like the smell,â he whispered.âI know,â I said, smiling down at him. âHospitals and clinics always smell like⌠rules.âHe let out a small, nervous laugh, tension easing just a fraction. Aaron walked on Georgeâs other side, shoulder brushing mine in the narrow entryway. He didnât look at me. Didnât need to. I could feel the rigid heat of him thereâalert, wound tight, ready to pounce.The lobby hummed with quiet activity: soft voices, rubber soles against tile, a wall-mounted screen looping a video about coping skills. The words slid past me. I didnât need them.Check-in complete. Names confirmed, appointments verified. Security spread out again: two men drifted
VENUSThe hallway released me into the dining area like a breath I hadnât realized I was holding.Morning light poured in through the tall windows, pale and deceptively gentle, illuminating a scene that belonged to a life I barely recognized anymore. The long table gleamed, perfectly set. Plates arranged with careful symmetry. Silverware aligned just so. A version of normal so meticulously maintained it almost passed for real.Almost.Rosemary sat at the head of the table, angled toward Sabine, who was strapped into her high chair, a bib already smudged from a half-finished attempt at breakfast. Rosemary held a spoon midair, her expression patient but strained as she tried to coax another bite past Sabineâs stubborn lips.âJust one more, sweetheart,â she murmured. âFor me.âSabine turned her head sharply, lips pressed tightâunmistakably Sinclair. Her dark eyes flicked to me the moment I entered the room, lighting up.âMama.âGeorge sat farther down the table, his plate untouched. A pi
VENUSMy phone vibrated on the countertop.The sound was small. Ordinary.I froze, water still pouring over my shoulders, breath snagging halfway through an inhale. For one irrational second, I considered leaving it there, letting it buzz until the battery died, pretending ignorance could still protect me.But Andrea didnât do maybes.I shut the water off and reached for the towel, wrapping it tight as I stepped out of the shower. Cold tile bit into my feet, grounding me just enough to move. In the mirror, a woman stared back. She was calm, composed and in control.She was a liar.I picked up the phone.One message lit the screen.>Canât lieâyou put on a good show. Didnât think you had it in you.My stomach hollowed out.Not fear.Confirmation.Clarity settled in with sickening precision. Andrea hadnât guessed. She hadnât assumed. She knew exactly how last night had gone.Which meant one thing.I wasnât alone.Either the house was buggedâlistening devices tucked into vents, cameras hi







