Harrison POVI couldnât breathe in that room.The air felt thick, like it was pressing down on my chest, squeezing out whatever calm I had left. So I stepped out onto the balcony, lit a cigarette with shaking fingers, and sat down hard on the cold concrete. The night air was supposed to clear my head. It didnât.Iâd been out there for hoursâsince midnight, maybe earlier. Time didnât move right anymore.Her cry still echoed in my head.That hollow, breaking soundâthe kind that comes from something being ripped open insideâsliced through the night and into my skull. And her eyes⌠Jesus. That look she gave me. Hurt. Accusing. Daring me to fix it when I didnât even know how.I wanted to go back inside. Sit beside her. Say anything that might slow the storm Iâd helped unleash.But I couldnât move.I was drowning too.Her grief was everywhere. In the silence between us. In the creak of the floorboards. In my lungs with every breath I dragged in like smoke and let out like regret. And no mat
Alinaâs POV Late night. Cold air. A silence that felt too heavy to breathe.I lay still, wrapped in a thin sheet, my body aching in places I didnât want to think about. Everything felt slowâlike my soul was moving half a step behind my body. I wasnât crying anymore, just staring blankly at the ceiling, not knowing what to feel. Not knowing what to believe something inside me felt hollow, like something had been taken that I would never take back. And deep down, I knew what it was. I didn't want to say the wordânot even in my head. But it echoed there anywhere. I was raped. It didn't matter that I froze. That I couldn't speak. That I didn't fight. He still did it, and now I had to still live in this body that didn't feel like mine anymore.I hated myselfâfor being week, for not stopping it, for surviving.I scratched at my skin softly, over the same spot again and again. Not to hurt. Just to feel something that wasn't this. Just to stay grounded. But even that felt wrong.Tears had sto
The room was dim, glowing softly from the warm light of a few wall lamps. The air smelled faintly of cigarette smoke that curled slowly toward the ceiling. Robert sat slouched in the corner booth, the worn leather creaking under him. One hand rested on the table, his fingers tapping slowly beside a half-empty glass of scotch. The other hand held a cigarette, burning slowly between his fingers.He took a long drag, his eyes half-closed, watching the smoke drift in the light. Then he quietly blew it out and pulled out his phone. Without saying hello, he asked one simple question:âIs it done?âThere was a short pause.âYes,â said the voice on the other end.Robertâs lips curved into a small, sharp smileâhard to read.âGood,â he said quietly. âMake sure. I canât afford any mistakes.âHe hung up and dropped the phone on the table with a soft click.Across from him, Zehn had been watching silently, spinning his drink slowly in his hand. He raised an eyebrow, his voice low and teasing.âWha
Alina POV"I donât think this is a good idea..." I said softly, gently stopping Monicaâs hand as she tried to brush blush across my cheeks.She let out a sigh. "Alina, itâs your first prom. You should go and have funâjust like other girls your age.""But Uncle didnât give me permission," I murmured, looking down.Monica rolled her eyes. "So what? Your dad said itâs up to you."Before I could reply, Freya jumped in with a grin. âHeâs not even here. Weâll go, have fun, and be back before he even notices.â"Just relax, Alina," Monica added, now applying a soft lipstick to my lips. "Youâre a teenager. You deserve to enjoy this part of your life."I glanced at myself in the mirror. I was wearing a maroon bodycon dress, and for the first time ever, I had makeup on. I looked different. More grown-up. Maybe even pretty. Part of me was still nervous, but another part was curious. I wanted to know what prom felt like.Uncle had said no when I asked to go. He didnât even think about itâjust said
The car rolled to a stop outside the school gates. Dad turned to me, his brow furrowed with that familiar protective concern."If you don't feel good, just call me. I'll come to pick you up," he said, his hand briefly resting on my head.I smiled, appreciating his care. "Yes, I'm fine," I reassured him, reaching for the door handle."Don't go out alone or anywhere. Just call me or Henry. If we're not available, call the office, butâ"I cut him off, anticipating his words. "Do not go out alone. Keep your phone with you."He chuckled softly. "It's just an ongoing case, baby. We can't take any risks.""I know, Dad," I replied with a smile, stepping out of the car.I waved him goodbye as he drove off, the familiar sound of the engine fading into the distance. Taking a deep breath, I stood at the school's entrance, gathering my thoughts. Before I could take a step, a car horn blared, and I turned to see a red car approaching. Cat women print on the bonnet and red car I recognized instantly
Alinaâs POVThe smell of roasted vegetables and chicken pie filled the kitchen, but I couldnât focus on any of it. My leg throbbed under the tableâstill sore from last night. I shifted in my seat, trying not to let it show. Every time I moved, I could still feel Uncle Harrisonâhis hands, his weight, his loveâetched into my body like a memory I couldnât shake. A mix of ache and warmth that lingered deep in my skin.Dad sat across from me, watching me closely, his fork paused mid-air. He looked at my plate, then at my limp, and finally at my neck. I could feel it coming.âYouâve got that rash again,â he said, eyes narrowing. âLooks worse than last time. You sure itâs just your allergies?âI touched my neck quickly, as if that would somehow hide the truth. The marks were still tender. They werenât from allergies. But I couldnât exactly tell him the real reason.âItâs just the shampoo or something,â I said too fast. âI think it flared up when I was out of town.âDad didnât look convinced.