Mag-log in“Say it again.”Liam’s voice came through the phone low and steady, but Elara could hear the strain beneath it—the way he was holding himself together by will alone.“I said we stop letting him move us like pieces,” Elara replied, standing in Adrian’s living room, her back straight despite the tremor in her hands. “We stop reacting separately.”There was a pause. A breath.“And you’re calling me now,” Liam said, “because you trust me again?”Elara closed her eyes for a brief second. “I’m calling you because I don’t want fear deciding for us anymore.”Adrian watched her carefully, saying nothing, giving her the space to speak without interference.“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes,” Liam said. “Don’t argue.”Elara almost smiled. Almost. “I wasn’t planning to.”Liam arrived with a duffel bag and dark circles under his eyes. He didn’t look at Adrian at first. His gaze went straight to Elara, scanning her like he was memorizing proof that she was real, unharmed.“You okay?” he asked.“I a
“Don’t move.”The command was quiet, but it carried authority—sharp, controlled, dangerous.Elara froze halfway down the hallway, her bare feet pressed to the cold floor. Adrian stood between her and the back door, one hand raised slowly, the other clenched around his phone as if it were a weapon.“Police are already on their way,” Adrian said evenly, eyes fixed on the shadow beyond the glass. “You don’t want this to end badly.”A silhouette shifted outside. Slow. Unhurried.“That depends,” the voice replied, calm to the point of cruelty, “on who decides what ‘badly’ means.”Elara’s heart hammered so loud she was sure it could be heard through the walls. She took a step back without looking, her shoulder brushing the wall.“Adrian,” she whispered. “He knows.”“I know,” Adrian murmured back. “That’s why you’re staying behind me.”The doorknob turned once more—then stopped. Silence stretched, thick and suffocating.Then footsteps retreated.Adrian didn’t relax. Not yet.He moved quickly
“Open the door, Liam.”The knock wasn’t loud, but it carried weight—controlled, deliberate, the kind that didn’t ask permission.Liam stood frozen in the hallway for a second too long before Devano appeared beside him, eyes wary. “Who is it?”Liam swallowed. “Go to your room.”“Dad—”“Please.”Devano hesitated, then retreated, glancing back once before disappearing down the hall.Liam exhaled and opened the door.His father stood on the porch, posture rigid, jaw set. His mother was beside him, arms crossed, eyes sharp with restrained fury.“So,” his mother said coldly, stepping inside without waiting. “This is where you’ve been hiding.”“I’m not hiding,” Liam replied, closing the door behind them. “I’m living.”His father scoffed. “Living? Or ruining your life?”Liam met his gaze. “Why are you here?”“To stop you,” his mother snapped. “Before you throw everything away for a woman who brings nothing but chaos.”Liam’s hands curled into fists. “Don’t talk about Elara like that.”His mot
“Mom, are you coming back tonight?”Elara froze with her hand still on the car door.Aria stood on the porch, clutching her stuffed rabbit, eyes too wide for a question that simple.Elara forced a smile and walked back a few steps, crouching so they were eye level. “I’ll be back soon, sweetheart. I just need a little time to think.”Aria frowned. “Like when people think and don’t come back?”Elara’s chest tightened. She pulled Aria into her arms, breathing in the familiar scent of soap and home. “No. Not like that. I promise.”From the doorway, Liam watched silently, his hands clenched at his sides. He wanted to step forward. Wanted to say something that would fix this. But every word he rehearsed felt wrong—too late or too selfish.Elara stood, meeting his eyes across the small distance that suddenly felt like miles.“I’ll call,” she said quietly.“I’ll wait,” Liam replied, just as quietly.She nodded once, then turned away before he could see her doubt.Adrian’s place was quiet in a
“Did you write this?”Elara’s voice barely carried over the sound of sirens fading in the distance. Her fingers hovered inches from the note taped to the shattered window, as if touching it might burn her.Liam didn’t answer right away. He stepped closer, eyes scanning the handwriting—sharp, deliberate, familiar in a way that made his stomach twist.“No,” he said finally. “But I know who did.”Elara laughed softly, the sound thin and unsteady. “Of course you do.”She pulled the note free herself.You keep choosing wrong.And I keep cleaning up after you.Her knees weakened. Liam caught her just in time, his arm firm around her back.“Hey. Stay with me,” he murmured.She pressed her palm to his chest, feeling his heartbeat—fast, real, grounding. “He’s not hiding anymore.”“No,” Liam agreed. “He wants us to know he’s close.”The police returned within minutes, flashlights sweeping the yard, radios crackling with low voices. Elara stood wrapped in a blanket on the couch, watching shadows
“Don’t open that door!”Elara’s shout came a second too late.Liam’s hand was already on the handle when a sharp knock echoed through the house—hard, deliberate, not rushed. The kind of knock that carried intention.“I’ll handle it,” Liam said, voice low but steady.Elara grabbed his sleeve. “What if it’s him?”Liam turned, cupping her face briefly, grounding her with his gaze. “Then he won’t get past me.”He opened the door.Two police officers stood outside, faces grim, posture alert.“Mr. Hayes?” one of them asked.“Yes.”“We received another report. A neighbor saw someone leaving your backyard less than ten minutes ago.”Elara’s knees nearly buckled. Liam stepped back instinctively, keeping her behind him.“Did they see his face?” Liam asked.The officer shook his head. “No. But we found this.”He handed Liam a small object sealed in a plastic bag.A silver key.Elara gasped. “That’s… that’s my old storage key.”Liam turned sharply to her. “The one you said you lost?”She nodded,





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