My father.
Alive.
Waiting.
He leaned against the window, arms crossed, his face a mask of unreadable emotions—but the tempest brewing in his eyes spoke volumes.
“I saw you.”
His voice was flat, under control, yet laced with an unsettling chill.
“Outside. With him.”
I didn’t flinch. I didn’t utter a word. But inside, my stomach knotted itself into tight coils.
“You’re getting weak, Elizabeth.”
Finally, I raised my gaze to meet him.
“I’m not.”
His eyes narrowed, scrutinizing.
“I raised you better than this.”
“You didn’t raise me,” I shot back, the words escaping before I could think. “You trained me. You forged me into a weapon. There’s a world of difference.”
Silence enveloped us. The kind of silence that made your heartbeat echo in your ears.
He stepped closer.
“You can’t afford attachments. You know that. I have taught you that. And yet…”
His head tilted ever so slightly. “You’re letting your guard down. He makes you soft.”
I held his gaze, icy and unyielding.
“I’m still the best asset you’ve ever created. I can handle the mission.”
“You better,” he warned, his tone grave. “Because if you fall apart now, there’s no coming back. They’ll own you, break you. Or worse—use you.”
I remained silent.
Instead, I brushed past him and made my way upstairs, leaving the conversation hanging in the air, heavy and unresolved.
In the silence of my bedroom, I sank to the edge of the bed.
My hands were trembling.
I stared at them. He wasn’t wrong, but he wasn’t right, either. Noah didn’t make me soft. He made mefeel.
And maybe that was dangerous… but for the first time in years, it also made me feel human.
I curled beneath the covers. Eyes wide open.
Sleep didn’t come easily.
But when it did, it came with his voice in my ear and the weight of guilt coiled around my chest like a vice.
