Chapter Twenty Seven

The car slows and stops in front of a large building. KYT is written in bold letters across the top.

I want to ask questions. Too many. Why here? How did Dominic end up getting treated in a band’s training place? None of it makes sense. But I keep quiet. Dad has been tense for days. I don’t want to add to it.

“We’re here,” Uncle Zachary says as he steps out of the car.

The word here hits me hard. The small spark of excitement in me dies right away.

Mom keeps looking back at me. Again and again.

I finally met her eyes. “Do you know if he’s okay?” I ask.

She hesitates. I can tell she doesn’t want to promise anything. Then she reaches for my arms and holds them tight.

“Let’s go find out,” she says.

We walk toward the building. Each step feels heavy. The doors are glass, tall, clean. I can see people moving inside. Talking. Laughing. It feels wrong.

Before we reach the entrance, a man steps in front of us. Security. His face is blank. His arms are crossed.

“Can I help you?” he asks.

“We’re here for Dominic,” Dad says. “He was brought here after an accident.”

The man studies us. He looks at the building, then back at us. “Names?”

Dad gives them. Mine comes out shaky when I say it.

The man speaks into a small radio clipped to his shirt. He turns away from us. His voice is low. I can’t hear what he’s saying.

I rub my hands together. My heart is loud in my ears.

Mom shifts closer to me. Uncle Zachary stands still, his jaw tight.

The man turns back. “You’ll have to wait,” he says.

“How long?” I ask.

He doesn’t answer. He just gestures toward the side.

We move where he points. The door stays closed.

The glass doors open again and this time a woman walks out. She introduces herself as the manager of KYT. Before saying anything else, she looks at each of us and asks if we have our phones with us.

She explains that what happened is sensitive and that nothing from inside the building is allowed to leave with us. One by one, we hand our phones to the security guard. I hesitate before letting mine go, but I do it anyway. It feels like losing the last thing that has kept me connected to the world these past days.

The manager studies our faces, then nods and asks us to follow her.

Inside, the building is nothing like I expected. There is no music playing, no noise, no signs of life beyond quiet hallways and closed doors. The floors are clean and the lights are bright, but the place feels heavy. My footsteps echo as we walk, and each sound makes my chest tighten.

As we move deeper into the building, my thoughts start racing again. I keep wondering what I am about to see. I keep wondering if I am ready for it. Mom stays close to me, close enough that our arms brush, but neither of us says anything.

The manager slows down and finally stops near a door at the end of the hall. She turns to face us, her expression serious.

The manager does not explain anything else. She only nods once and reaches for the door.

My heart is beating so hard it hurts. I hold my breath without meaning to. Mom’s hand tightens around my arm, but I barely feel it.

The door opens.

At first, I only saw the room. A couch. A low table. Sunlight coming in through a wide window. It looks normal. Too normal for all the fear we carried here.

Then I see him.

Dominic is sitting upright on the couch. He is wrapped in a blanket, his hair messy, his face tired but whole. There is a small bandage on the side of his head. Nothing else. No wires. No tubes. No blood.

He looks up.

For a second, none of us move.

Then he says my name. “Catherine.”

My chest caves in. My legs almost give way.

It takes a few seconds for it to sink in. Dominic is sitting there. Breathing. Talking. Fine. Too fine for what we were dragged through.

Then I look at Sasha.

She is standing close to him. Too close. Like she belongs there. Like she has been there this whole time.

“You knew,” I say slowly. My voice sounds strange to my own ears.

Sasha opens her mouth. “Catherine, I—”

“You knew,” I say again.

Dominic frowns. “Cat, she helped me. She stayed—”

“And she didn’t tell anyone,” I cut in. I look straight at Sasha now. “You didn’t tell his sister. You didn’t tell the police. You didn’t tell me.”

Sasha swallows. “I didn’t think—”

“No,” I say. “You did think. You just didn’t want to share.”

The room goes still.

Her face changes. Guilt flashes there, quick and ugly. She does not deny it.

Alice’s face comes into my mind. Her shaking voice. Her tears. The way she said he was all she had.

“You let us believe he was gone,” I say. “You let his sister fall apart. All because you wanted him to yourself.”

“That’s not fair,” Sasha says, her lips twitch. “I was scared of losing him.”

Dominic tries to reach for me. “Catherine, please. She stayed with me when I woke up. She didn’t mean harm.”

I step back.

“I don’t care what you meant,” I say. “Intent doesn’t undo weeks of hell.”

Jealousy burns through me, sharp and humiliating. She was here. She heard his voice. She watched him wake up. I was counting days and preparing myself for a body.

“I’m glad you’re alive,” I say to Dominic. My voice cracks, but I finish the sentence. “I really am.”

He looks confused. Hurt. “Cat, don’t leave like this.”

I already am.

I turn away from him. From Sasha. From the room that should have been relieved and turned into something else entirely.

I walk out without another word.

The door closes behind me, and the anger finally catches up with the fear.

My phone starts ringing. Alice’s name flashes on the screen. She should be close by now. Any minute, really.

I answer before it stops.

“Cat,” she says, breathless. “Have you seen my brother?”

I stop walking. The building is behind me now. The people inside feels far away, like it belongs to another life.

“Yes,” I say. My voice almost gives out, but I hold it together. “I’ve seen him.”

There is a sharp breath on the other end. “Is he—”

“He’s fine,” I say. “He’s alive.”

She breaks down then. I hear it in the way she cries my name. In the way relief crashes into her all at once.

“Oh God. Oh God,” she keeps saying. “Where is he? I’m almost there.”

I close my eyes. For a moment, I imagine going back inside. Standing there with her. Watching her run to him. Watching everything fall back into place.

“He’s inside,” I say. “They’ll take you to him.”

“Cat,” she says softly. “Are you with him?”

I hesitate. Just a second too long.

“No,” I say. “But you will be.”

She doesn’t question it. She’s too busy crying. Too busy being grateful. Too busy getting her brother back.

I end the call.

I stand there for a moment longer, phone still in my hand, chest tight, throat burning. He will make things right with everyone who matters. His sister. His family.

I turn away from the building and walk down the street alone.

I don’t look back.