Semua Bab When the Star and Moon No Longer Meet: Bab 1 - Bab 9

When Ryan Spencer walked in, the scent that followed him was Wendy Henderson’s signature perfume.His eyes fell on the fresh bandage wrapped around my wrist. He frowned.“Jane, I was only gone for a minute. Why do you always have to make things harder for me?”Before I could answer, he reached for the gauze. There was no concern in the gesture. Just impatience. Irritation.I pulled my hand back instinctively and held it against my chest.“It’s already been taken care of,” I said quietly.His hand hung in the air for a second before dropping. The look he gave me slowly turned tired.At first, when I said someone was protecting me, he thought my condition was getting worse. He used to hold me tightly, eyes red, like he could keep the world away if he tried hard enough.Now, my pain had become something he couldn’t shake off. A weight he was done carrying.“There is no one,” he said flatly. “Jane Nelson, how long are you going to keep lying to me?”He didn’t wait for my reply. H

I couldn’t sleep that night.At some point, Ryan was standing by the bed, staring at the nightstand with a complicated look in his eyes.All the knives had been thrown out.And yet, sitting there was a neatly peeled apple.The peel hadn’t broken. It curled in one long spiral.That was the kind of patience only the sixteen-year-old Ryan had.I thought maybe, while I was asleep, the boy had come to see me again.I shot upright and threw my arms around the figure in front of me, burying my face in his suit.“You peeled the apple and left. I thought… I thought you weren’t going to stay with me tonight.”Ryan’s body went rigid. Like he didn’t know what to do with me.After a long pause, he awkwardly patted my back.The movement was stiff. Careful.“Jane… are you having another nightmare?”The moment I realized it was his voice, I screamed and shoved him away, scrambling to the corner of the bed.“Go away. You’re not him.”He stepped closer and dropped to one knee beside me.

The dust slowly settled.The hallway lights flickered twice with a sharp buzz before returning to that lifeless, sterile white.The shadow of the boy, who had seemed capable of tearing the world apart just seconds ago, turned transparent the moment he crossed the doorway.Like sand slipping through open fingers, he dissolved little by little… then gently sank back into Jane’s body.Ryan stood frozen.His pupils widened. The suffocating emptiness still lodged in his throat.But when he looked again, there was no one there.Just Jane, unconscious on the floor.And the iron door, twisted out of shape, hung crooked on its hinges.“That… that student in the uniform. Did you see him?”Ryan’s voice trembled as he grabbed Wendy’s arm.Wendy was already pale with fear. She struggled out of his grip, her voice breaking.“What student? Ryan, are you out of your mind?“The door blew open by itself! This place is cursed. I’m leaving!”She didn’t even try to keep up her usual composure

The huge villa fell into a dead silence again.This time, no one came to disturb him.Ryan stood in the center of the empty living room and looked around.Nothing had changed. The furniture was exactly the same.And yet the place felt unbearably hollow.The lights were all on, bright as ever, but they couldn’t touch the darkness inside him.“Jane?”He called out cautiously.No answer.Only his own voice bouncing off the cold walls.He staggered toward the liquor cabinet, his hands shaking so badly he could barely hold the bottle.The neck of the bottle knocked against the marble counter and shattered.He didn’t care that his palm was cut by the glass. He lifted the jagged bottle and took a hard gulp straight from it.The liquor burned all the way down.It scorched his throat, his chest, his stomach.Tears sprang to his eyes from the sting.He slid down along the cabinet and collapsed onto the floor, clutching the broken bottle.Through blurred vision, he thought he saw

Winter in Ireland lingers in the rain.There’s no sight of the glittering high society I left behind here. No suffocating rumors. No whispers waiting to swallow you whole.I wear a thick cream cashmere coat and carry a small bouquet of chamomile I just bought at the market. The tiny white flowers are dotted with rain, fragile and clean.It matches how I feel.Quiet. Steady.I push open the door to an old pub at the end of the lane.A fireplace crackles inside. Oak wood pops and snaps. Somewhere in the background, bagpipes play softly. The warmth wraps around me the moment I step in.I breathe it in.And for a second, the old cold buried deep in my bones eases.There was a time when my hands shook so badly I couldn’t even hold silverware. Now I greet the round-faced landlady with ease.“The usual,” I say. “Hot milk. No sugar.”She smiles and hands it over.“Oh, by the way. That guy came again today.”My hand pauses for barely a second.The surface of the milk doesn’t even