All Chapters of His To Hear, His To Hold: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

I should've been worried that Jackie didn't show up at school the next day. But when I heard she'd just called in sick, I decided I didn't care that much. At least she wasn't dead or lying broken in a hospital bed. So maybe when Victor said he gave Lara a warning, he meant something verbal. Something scary, sure—but not violent. Or not. The more I thought about it, the more frustrated I got. Everything looked like it wasn't him. Every time I tried to dig, the evidence bent just far enough away from him to keep me doubting myself. Why the hell was he so suspicious? I was in the library, pretending to research for class, but my mind wouldn't leave Victor alone. What was he doing right now? Who was he thinking about? Was he— Wait. Why was I thinking about him like that? He's a weirdo pervert. So what if he's ridiculously good-looking, with perfect skin and that voice and those eyes and— Shut up, Anne. But shouldn't he be near me right now? Flirting with me? Making s

I stretched as I stepped out of the classroom, exhausted from dealing with Mr. Monroe's unsolicited dating advice. For some reason, he thought it was his place to suggest I "hold off on romance" until college—where I'd supposedly meet someone "more suitable." I told him I'd consider that advice the day he divorced his ugly unibrow wife. That got us into a heated back-and-forth for a good ten minutes, but whatever. I walked alone toward my locker. The hallway was dead quiet—no stray chatter, no classroom doors opening. Anne had either already gone home or left with Katy. I should probably catch up to her. I opened my locker and blinked. Someone had been here. Everything was still in place—my books, my notes—but there was something new: a small note lying front and center, begging to be seen. I plucked it out and read it aloud under my breath. I'll be waiting in the storage closet in the gym. There was even a little heart next to it. Cute. But I wasn't falling for this. It's no

By the time I got home, I was anxious. Not the kind of jittery-nervous anxious. The kind that simmers low in your gut like something's coming but you don't know what. "Ay, mi niña!" Rosa cried the moment I stepped inside. She rushed to me like she'd just heard I'd come back from war. Her hands were already on my face, checking my cheeks, my forehead, my color. "You look so pale! Too pale! They didn't feed you in the hospital? Dios mío, this girl needs broth!" Her husband wasn't far behind her, already clapping his hands with purpose. "She needs meat! Something to put color back in her cheeks. I'll get the pork." I tried to sidestep, to make a break for my room, but they were herding me straight into the kitchen like it was a triage center. Yesenia and Dad just watched it happen, didn't even lift a finger to help. They looked relieved, honestly. Like this was exactly what they thought I needed. Rosa shoved a bowl into my hands—rice, beans, chicken. Then pork belly. Then another pla

I woke up before my alarm. I always do. 5:42 AM. Like clockwork. No dreams. Just all Anne. Anne glancing at me like she was really seeing me for the first time. She doesn't trust the silence. So now, finally, she's leaning on me for something. My sweet Anne was scared. And now that she wasn't scared of me, my chest ached for her. It physically hurt to see her that vulnerable, that off-balance. She wasn't in control anymore—spiraling slowly—and I couldn't fix it fast enough. I could only sit with her in it. Offer a steady voice while she lost her footing. And the fact that I couldn't do more to help her? That burned my soul. I stood and made my way to the closet, slid my clothes aside, and looked at the shelf behind it. My alter was still there, exactly as I left it. And now, a new addition, Anne's ribbon. I bowed my head and pressed my hands together. Eyes closed. "She's afraid something's wrong with her. She doesn't know how quiet the world really is. Please let her find p

"Stop right there! You can't go home yet!" Victor blocked me like a human barricade. "We have to study! Where are you going instead of doing that?" I stared at him, deadpan. "It's not like one afternoon will make a difference." "You didn't get any studying done earlier though. You distracted both of us!" "You demanded more art," I reminded him. "You could've said no!" I could've, but I didn't. Because I didn't feel like studying. Because drawing a Zord was more fun than flash cards. "Can't be helped," I muttered. "I can always just learn from the internet. How am I supposed to study comfortably at school? Plus, I'm a patient. I'm supposed to be on bed rest." "Bed..." Victor facepalmed so hard I thought I heard it echo. He took a deep breath like he was about to start a prayer. "Anne, what the fuck is going on?" Fine! I whipped out my phone and shoved it into his face as he trailed me toward the bus stop. "'Anne, come home quickly after school. Abuela is making fried chicken