Romans & histoires The Retreat Sarah Pearse

Her mind refused to stop replaying what had happened. The gunshots. Aisha falling. The blood. Each memory came rushing back without warning. Sarah stopped again by the glass window and pressed her trembling palm lightly against it. Through the reflection, she could see her own face; pale, exhausted, and drawn with worry. Minutes later, the quiet corridor stirred slightly as footsteps approached from the far end. Inspector Caleb Pearce walked steadily toward her, his expression serious but calm. Behind him was his partner, a slightly younger officer carrying a small notebook and pen in his hand.

“Every room. Every corner. Check the gates. No one leaves this compound.” The guards scattered instantly. Arthur’s fingers curled into fists. “That ungrateful girl… she thinks she can ruin everything?” Downstairs, Matilda froze halfway through sipping her tea as the shouting echoed from above. “What’s going on?” she muttered. Moments later, Wendy descended the stairs, her expression already composed again—but her eyes were stormy. “Sarah has escaped,” she announced calmly. The teacup slipped from Matilda’s fingers and shattered on the floor. “What?!”

Even though she had put on a great show, she got to admit– Sarah will miss them. The thought of staying alone in the house on weekends till they return was revoking and so, she resorts to staying with her mother for 3 days, packed accordingly and was ready to leave –not before she sends off the rest of the pack to their retreat.

She looks at me with sharp eyes, touching my face with her bloody hand, and says, “Henry, please stay still.” She bites her shirt and tears it to get some rags. Dressing on my injuries and then binding up her left arm. The growling draws closer to our concealment, and the footstep walks towards us. Bounding my heart on the frame, Sarah looks towards the entrance, stands up, and runs outside. The footsteps run after her, and I know she wants to distract our enemies. But she’s too weak to bear with that. Fuck me, how can she gain that confidence?

When I got back to the penthouse she was at the kitchen island. Working. Case files open. Coffee going cold beside her the way it sometimes still did when she was deep enough in something that she forgot. She looked up when the elevator opened. "How was the board meeting," she said. "Hargrove resigned," I said. "It is done." She held my gaze for a moment. Then she closed her laptop. Stood up. Crossed the kitchen. And put her arms around me. I held on. For a long moment I just held on.

She had never felt more useless in her entire life so she went around the people offering them empty platitudes. "Don't worry, It'll soon be over." It would be one way or the other. "Our warriors are strong." And the rogues outnumbered them. "We will repel them, please have faith." Or they would slaughter them. When a bloodstained half-naked warrior finally came back bearing news of the fight, panting from running in so quickly through their barricade, Sarah was the first there. "Tell me. What is going on out there?" She demanded "We… We pushed back the rogues. We have secured our pack lands and now we battle what is left of them at the perimeter."

Just in case. Sarah’s attention shifted past me, back to Rhea, and her expression softened a little. “We should go back,” she said gently. Rhea nodded, but there was still tension in the way she held herself as she walked past me and headed toward the estate. She didn’t even look back. That left me standing there alone, my fingers slowly brushing over my lips as they curved into a faint, almost pathetic smile. Just as I turned to head back inside, after all, I was still a guest and the event wasn’t over, I barely took a step before I caught sight of a small, familiar figure approaching, and my eyes widened in recognition.

I watched her retreating figure as she walked towards the front door. ‘Look back, please. Turn around.’ I inwardly said, desperately hoping she’d look back at me one last time before she disappeared behind the door. I wished and prayed she’d turn around to look at me one last time. With each step she took closer to the door without turning back, my heart cracked a little. ‘Look back, please.’

He said it like he could make it true just by believing it hard enough. Marcus was shouting orders from the back of the theater, retreating fast now that the tide had turned, his guards covering his withdrawal in a tight, practiced formation. Sarah was advancing instead, voice sharp and clear despite everything, ordering her men to pin down the theater's exits, to box in whatever was left of Marcus's crew.