I sit in a weird, crossed position in front of Naomi’s mirror.
The scar on my face glares back at me, and I unscrew the concealer, hoping—stupidly—that this time, I’ll be able to cover it up. It’s never worked very well; some wounds always manage to find a way to resurface.
A thin swipe over the scar. Another. But it really isn’t doing much.
By the fifth coat, I’m desperate. The concealer is starting to cake, and the scar is only somewhat masked. The makeup any of us have isn’t the best quality, but it’s all we can afford.
I pause and glance at my reflection, press my lips together, my chest tight with frustration. I’m not sure what I was expecting.
With a sigh, I set the concealer down. I’ve reached my limit. This is as good as it’s going to get.
The door creaks open behind me, and I glance up to see Naomi stepping inside. Her hair drips onto her uniform, darkstrands clinging to her neck. She pauses in the doorway, giving me a quick once-over with those piercing eyes of hers. Then her lips twitch—somewhere between a smirk and a frown.
“That’s definitely not your shade,” she says, the corner of her mouth lifting in that dry, Naomi kind of way.
“Yeah, well, it’s the only one I’ve got,” I shoot back, resisting the urge to roll my eyes. Her comment stings, though I hate that it does. I’ve had enough of people staring at my face like it’s something grotesque to be fixed.
Naomi strolls across the room and sinks onto her bed, watching me. I meet her gaze in the mirror for a second before turning away. I reach into my pocket and pull out the crumpled note, smoothing it with my fingers. No words, no dramatic buildup—I just hand it to her.
Her brows knit together as she reads it, the tension in her shoulders tightening. Her voice is taut, a thin wire stretched too far. “What does it mean by ‘final warning’?”
I lean against the bed frame, my heart still raw and aching from last night. “It’s not the first one,” I admit quietly. “They’ve sent me notes before. Threats. Telling me to stop looking for answers. I didn’t think it was serious.” I swallow hard. “Until now.”
Naomi’s eyes stay glued to the note, her fear barely hidden under the mask she puts on. I know her too well, though. I see the cracks. “You got a warning like this before and didn’t think it was important to tell us?” she says, her voice laced with quiet accusation.
I bristle, my pulse quickening. “I was going to tell you,” I reply, trying to keep my voice even. “But I’ve gotten so many of those kinds of messages before. Nothing happened. And then we saw… what we saw, and our house got broken into and there was no time.”
Her lips press into a thin line, and she exhales long and slow, like she’s holding herself back. Holdingsomethingback. “This isn’t just about you, Addie. We’re in this together, remember? Or do you always have to carry the world on your shoulders?”
Honestly, the words hit a nerve. I clench my fists, fighting the urge to snap back. Naomi has a spectacular way of throwing truths around like they’re knives. Sharp ones that are quick and precise. Designed to hurt, just to remind you they’ve landed. “I know that, Naomi. But I’ve been doing my best to keep us safe. What good would it have done to tell you about something that felt like an empty threat, and worry you unnecessarily?”
“And how did that work out for you, Addie? Look around. We’re being watched. We could’ve been prepared if you’d just told us.”
Prepared. Like that was ever possible. I laugh bitterly, shaking my head. “Prepared for what? A guy breaking into our house with a knife? Naomi, I’ve done everything I can to prevent this from getting worse. But I’m not psychic. How was I supposed to know it would spiral like this?”
For a moment, she doesn’t respond. Her eyes soften, guilt flashing briefly across her face. But it doesn’t last long.
“You should’ve thought about the consequences,” she mutters, crossing her arms over her chest.
And I can’t believe her audacity, her selfishness. She’s so caught up in her own fear and anger that she can’t see past it to understand that I’ve been trying to protect all of us.
“Maybe you should try putting yourself in my shoes,” I shoot back.
“Addie, we could have been prepared. We could have taken precautions. But you, as usual, thought you could handle everything on your own,” she says, pointing an accusatory finger at me.
I take a step closer to her, feeling my own anger rising. “And what about you, Naomi? What were you doing last night? I mean—aside from only looking out for yourself.”
Her face tightens, her jaw clenching so hard I can see the muscle jump. “I hid because it was the smart thing to do! No one told you to charge out there and start wrestling the damn criminal!”
“A smart thing to do? Seriously? If I didn’t start ‘wrestling the criminal’ who knows what would have happened to the people whoweren’t hiding.” I’m practically yelling now, trembling with fury I don’t even try to contain this time, because I know I won’t be able to. “Because unlike you, our mother was unprotected, Sam was unprotected.Iwas unprotected.”
Naomi flinches, but she recovers quickly, her eyes blazing. “Don’t act like you’re some martyr, Addie. You’re not the only one dealing with this.”
“Can’t you see I’mtrying!” I snap back, feeling my patience finally giving away. “You know what it’s beginning to sound like, Naomi? It seems like you’re more concerned about how this affects your life than about anyone else’s safety.”
Her face pales, and for a moment, there’s silence between us, and I can see the hurt in her eyes.
“Addie, that’s not fair,” she says, her voice softer now.
