We stay locked like that for a few seconds.
And an eternity.
Trembling.
The blade between us.
Then finally Ethan pulls back.
Tosses the knife aside.
“Pathetic,” he says. “You’re not worth it.”
He’s right again.
I drag myself to the far side of the room and collapse behind the bed. Shielded so that Jess won’t see me when he opens the door.
“Get out,” I tell Ethan. My voice sounds foreign to my ears. “You and your sister. Get out. And never return.”
He stares at me. He has blood on his knuckles, shirt, and face.
My blood.
He unlocks the door and leaves, slamming it behind him
I hear Jess’ muted voice in the hall. “Oh my God, your face.”
“It’s not my blood,” Ethan says.
A pause. Then: “What do you mean? Is Marco...”
“He’s fine,” Ethan replies. “Did you pack everything?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. Let’s go.”
Their voices fade. Move toward the stairs.
I crawl across the floor until I’m at the door, then press my ear to the wood.
I hear Jess’s voice again. Sounds like she’s talking to staff. Niamh?
“I resign. Invoking my exit clause. I’m done.”
The words hit like a second mauling.
She’s really leaving.
I stumble to my feet. Ignore the pain screaming through my shoulder. The blood soaking myshirt.
I run.
Past a shocked Niamh in the hall. And out the front door.
I’m bare faced. No mask. No cap. Just me and my scars and my blood in the streetlight.
“Jess!” I shout.
