The grin that spreads across my face is huge, uncontrollable. I may still be too thin, and my eyes may lack some of the fire they once had. But… I’m getting there.
One step at a time.
38
This Ends Tonight
Hypothetical Question: Would you rather have a permanent smile on your face that never fades, or a silent, untraceable laugh that haunts every room you walk into?
Carina
Isliparoundthecorner, darting to my left to stay out of sight of my father’s security cameras.
Unless you’d actually lived in this house, you’d never be able to find the weak spots.
But I do.
My father still lives in my childhood home. Even as a child, I snuck out enough times to know exactly where not to go.
The loose, black clothing clings awkwardly to my too-thin frame—a constant, silent reminder of how far I’ve fallen.
But no more.
I won’t let him shatter me again.
Every fractured piece of my soul I’ve painstakingly rebuilt is mine, and I won’t let him rip them apart again.
Nate trails just a step behind me, his presence like a shield I didn’t know I needed. Ever since we found our way back to each other, he refuses to let me out of his sight for more than a few minutes. Not that I’d want him to.
“You’ve got this,” he murmurs, his breath warm against my temple as his solid frame presses against my back.
I don’t respond, just nod tightly, my focus ahead as we inch closer to the house. Harsh, bright lights flood the grounds, illuminating every shadow and making it nearly impossible to stay concealed. My pulse quickens, but I push the fear down, replacing it with icy determination.
At the back door, I ease it open, the faint creak loud enough to make my heart stutter.
Nate’s hand briefly touches my waist, grounding me as we slip inside.
Voices float down the hallway from my father’s office, and I freeze, straining to hear every word.
“I haven’t heard from Lucian in days. No updates, nothing,” my father says, his tone clipped, the irritation unmistakable.
“He’s probably just busy getting his dick wet,” another voice responds with a chuckle, the sound making bile rise in my throat.
“She better not have done anything stupid,” my father snaps, venom dripping from each word.
“Do you still have the evidence?”
“Evidence?” My father barks out a laugh, the sound cruel and mocking. “There was never any evidence. The two of them are far too careful about that. I just had to hope she’d believe my bluff. And she did. Like the scared little girl she is.”
My chest tightens, white-hot rage rushing through me in a wave so powerful it’s dizzying. Nate was right. I endured his abuse—Lucian’s abuse—because I thought he had evidence. I thought he could send Nate and me to prison with a snap of his fingers. I believed every word, every threat, and I bent under the weight of it.
But it was a lie.
A bluff.
And I fell for it like a frightened child.
Nate’s hand finds mine, his grip firm and reassuring, but when I turn to meet his gaze, I see the same fury burning in his eyes.
