A nest. I need a nest to protect me from the suffocating pressure, to shield me from the world outside. But where? How?
I feel the panic rising, my thoughts scratching at me. The world outside feels too loud, too bright, and I can’t find my breath long enough to calm myself down.
You’re mine. Always have been.
I shove the phone away from me, but it just sits there, taunting me.
I stumble back, my knees hitting the edge of the couch, but I don’t even feel the pain. I don’t feel anything anymore except this burning need. My chest is caught in a vise-like grip. I can’t get enough air in my lungs. The sound of my heart thumping in my ears is deafening. My breath comes in short gasps, jagged and frantic, and the room is shrinking.
No, no, no.
I can’t do this. Not again.
I need to get out of this house before I lose my damn mind.
But I can’t move. I can’t even think straight. The panic builds in me, powerful as a wave, crashing over and over until I’m drowning in it.
The walls close in. The room tilts sideways. I might as well be on a ship in the middle of a storm, but I can’t get out of it. My fingers claw at my throat, like I’m choking. I try to take deep breaths, but I’ve forgotten how to inhale properly.
My vision starts to go black around the edges. The world is fading out, and I’m losing touch with everything. My hands fly to my face, pressing hard, but it doesn’t stop the shaking, the dizziness.
I try to speak. Try to make some kind of sound. But nothing comes out except a strangled sob, and that makes everything worse. The tears spill over before I can stop them, hot and quick, and I can’t breathe through them, can’t think through them.
I can’t stay like this. Not here. Not stuck in this house, suffocating.
Not when I can’t breathe.
The panic is building again. The dark thoughts swirl, each one feeding the next. I can’t let myself spiral anymore.
I grab my jacket and head out, my feet moving faster than my mind. I don’t even think about it. I just need to go.
The Gilded Lily is only a short walk, but with every step, it feels as hard as walking through knee-high snow. My thoughts are loud, each one louder than the last, and they threaten to pull me under again. The wind is bitter against my face. But I keep pushing forward, forcing myself to move, to get there.
I finally reach the cozy little place where I always find Tansy. She’s there, sitting in the back corner by the window, her signature floral crown perched lazily on her head, her hand wrapped around a cup of coffee.
The bell above the door jingles as I step inside, and she looks up, clearly seeing the stress ricocheting through my body. Without a word, she motions me over, her eyes softening.
I don’t sit down right away. I stand there for a moment, staring at her, trying to figure out how to start, how to explain the mess inside me.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Tansy gasps. “Lo, what happened?”
I can’t hold it back anymore. The words spill out before I can stop them.
“Dylan found me. He’s… he’s been tracking me. He knows where I am. He knows everything.”
Tansy’s eyes widen, and she sets her coffee down, her attention shifting fully to me. “Who? What?”
“Dylan Carr. Someone I used to work with. Someone who’s been following me.”
Tansy’s hand immediately reaches out, grabbing mine, her fingers tight but reassuring. “Slow down. What the hell is going on? Who is Dylan? And why is he tracking you?”
I look at her for a long moment, waiting for some kind of sign. Maybe she’ll tell me I’m overreacting. But I know I’m not. I’ve been running for months, hiding from Dylan, but I can’t keep doing this.
I pull my hand back, clutching it to my chest as if I can hold myself together with just that one hand alone.
“He was part of my investigative work last year,” I start. “The one where we exposed that manager who was embezzling money from a charity for the homeless. We were both on the team. He was… he was nice at first, just another person trying to do the right thing, you know? We worked well together. I thought he was a friend.”
I can see Tansy’s expression shift, her brow furrowing in confusion. “So what happened? Why’s he tracking you now?”
