I tell her everything. Every little detail that I can remember. Everything I saw.
Or… most of it.
And then I sit quietly, the minutes ticking away from me, as she lets those tears go, and she sobs.
My uncle can wait.
When I eventually get up, she stares up at me. “You have a perfect memory?”
Unfortunately.
I shrug. “There’s no formal diagnosis, but it’s called hyperthymesia.”
The ability to recall past events in excruciating levels of detail. Something I would gladly give up, if I could. “Try and get some sleep. I can’t stand outside tonight, but Salvatore has other plans. He won’t bother you.”
Her eyes slide closed. “Stefan… thank you.”
Stefan.
“Don’t thank me,” I say roughly. “Not for any of it.”
But I hold that expression on her face close, as I walk toward the dungeon with my hands buried in my pockets.
Turn the sound of my name on her lips over and over in my mind.
And I keep it there for the hours that follow.
Day 42 – Luciano
Nico grabs my shoulder. “Luc.”
“Get back to campus, Nic.” My voice is cold. So cold, as I shrug him off and slide into my car. “I’ll speak to you tomorrow.”
Tomorrow. Maybe by then, I’ll have myself under control again.
Ready to play the part I play so fucking well.
I don’t know where I’m going. So I keep going, keep driving, those images burned into my eyes as surely as the brand burned into her skin.
In the end, there was only ever one choice. One place that I would go.
The campus gates open smoothly. A guard I don’t recognise steps forward, sees my face through the glass, and waves me through without question.
I park up in the furthest corner, my feet near silent as I walk through the forest. The branches are already overgrown, thick and sharp as they snag in my shirt and I rip them away.
The hideaway still bears the same scars as the last time we were here.
The broken furniture is stacked up against the wall, the floors swept clean. I did it myself as Caterina lay sprawled across the bed, mussed and lovely and laughing at me as I did a terrible job of cleaning up my own mess, exaggerating just to see that smile grow bigger.
If I blink, I can almost see her. Pretend that she’s here, with me, laughing and teasing andsafe.
I blink. Once.
Bruises on her golden skin.
Twice.
Her brown eyes, clouded with whatever they’d given her.
