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Chapter 37

Author: O.Fola
last update Last Updated: 2025-08-11 21:19:59

The first thing I felt was a heavy dull weight pressing against my side where the bullet had torn through me then the sterile tang of disinfectant hit my nose, sharp and unforgiving, pulling me into consciousness.

I opened my eyes again to white walls, muted beeps, and the faint hum of a machine keeping track of my heartbeat. For a second, I didn’t know where I was. The ceiling seemed too bright, the sheets too stiff, and the smell… the smell was nothing like home. Then it came back in pieces Catherine, the cabin, Nova’s cries, the gunshot.

My breath caught.

“Grace?”

The voice was soft but frayed. I turned and found Noah in the chair beside my bed, slouched forward, elbows braced on his knees. His eyes were shadowed, his tie loose, and his jaw unshaven like he hadn’t left since…

“How long?” My voice was barely more than a rasp.

“Two days.” His gaze swept my face like he was checking for cracks. “You were in surgery for six hours. You lost a lot of blood.”

I looked away, trying to piec
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    By late afternoon, the bracelet from the box felt like a stone in my pocket. I’d kept it there all day, not because I didn’t trust the house to be safe, but because I didn’t trust myself to leave it lying around where Noah might notice. Every time my fingers brushed the cool metal, I pictured my mother’s eyes in that Polaroid wide, pleading, and alive. I was in the kitchen rinsing mugs when my phone buzzed. It was an Unknown Number. The same one that had sent me those threats before. My breath hitched, and I set the mug down too fast, the ceramic clinking hard against the counter. I swiped the screen. One new message: If you want to see her alive, be at the train station locker 312 by 7 PM and come alone. My first thought wasn’t even fear, it was disbelief, someone was dangling my mother like bait. I read it twice more, forcing my heartbeat to slow. This could be a trap or not but if there was even a one-percent chance this lead was real, I couldn’t ignore it. I deleted the tex

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    Noah’s arm was draped loosely over my waist, his breathing slow and even. In the faint orange light bleeding through the curtains, I stared at the ceiling, tracing the cracks in the paint like they might give me answers but sleep wouldn’t come. Every time I closed my eyes, the weight of the key in my pocket pulsed against my leg, as if it were more than metal or as if it were a question I wasn’t ready to face.I slid out from under his arm as quietly as I could. The hardwood was cool under my bare feet as I padded into the sitting room, careful not to wake him or Nova.The house was too quiet, the kind of silence that made every tick of the clock feel amplified. I curled up on the couch, knees pulled tight to my chest, and pulled the key from my pocket. My thumb traced the ridges, memorizing them, wishing they’d whisper what they unlocked.“Grace?”I startled, looking up to see Noah in the doorway, hair mussed, shirt hanging loose, eyes alert despite the hour.“Couldn’t sleep,” I murm

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    The smell of pancakes drifted through the hallway before I even opened my eyes. For the first time in weeks, I woke to the sound of Nova’s laughter instead of sirens or my pounding heartbeat.She was in the kitchen, I could tell by the muffled squeals and the scrape of a chair being pushed across the tile. I pulled on one of Noah’s shirts, still faintly smelling of cedar and soap, and padded barefoot toward the warmth.Nova sat cross-legged on the counter, a mixing bowl in her lap, her curls tucked under a headband that had already slipped halfway off. She was “helping” Noah, which meant there was more batter on her cheeks than in the pan.“Good morning, sleepyhead,” Noah said without looking up, flipping a pancake with the kind of focus that made it look like he’d been training for a breakfast Olympics.I smiled. “This is new, you don’t usually cook.”Nova grinned through a mouthful of chocolate chips. “Daddy said today is special.”Noah glanced at me then, and for a second I saw the

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