"I miss them," I said, the admission catching in my throat. "Logan and Cole. I miss them, and they're right here. How fucked up is that?"
"It's not fucked up at all," Luce said firmly. "You three were just starting to figure things out when everything happened. And now there's all this pain and guilt and trauma in the way."
"I don't know how to get past it," I confessed. "I don't know how to reach them, or if they even want me to try. What if they've decided I'm not worth the trouble anymore? What if they've realised I'm too damaged to fix?"
"First of all, you don't need fixing," Luce said, her voice taking on a fierceness I hadn't heard in weeks. "You're not broken, Cade. You're hurt, and there's a difference. And second, those boys love you. They're just drowning in their own guilt right now."
I wanted to believe her. God, how I wanted to believe that Logan's absence and Cole's distance weren't rejections but their own twisted form of protection. That somewhere under all this mess, they still cared about me the way they had before.
"I'm so tired of being afraid all the time," I whispered, tears filling my eyes. "I'm tired of jumping at shadows and waking up screaming. I'm tired of being this weak, pathetic thing that everyone has to take care of."
"You are the strongest person I know, Cadence Turner," Luce said firmly, squeezing my hand. "After everything you've been through, you're still here, still fighting. That's not a weakness. That's the kind of strength most people can't even imagine."
A sound at the doorway made us both look up. Cole stood there, his mismatched eyes taking in the scene before him. For a moment, something flickered across his face, guilt, pain, longing, I couldn't tell. Then his expression shuttered, the mask falling back into place.
"Sorry to interrupt," he said, his voice carefully neutral. "I just wanted to let you know that Ryder and I have to head out fora bit. There's a... situation we need to handle." My heart sank. Another excuse. Another reason to be anywhere but with me.
"Oh," I said, trying to keep the disappointment from my voice. "Okay." Cole's eyes lingered on me for a moment, and I wondered if he'd overheard our conversation. If he knew I'd been talking about him, about how much his absence hurt.
"Luce, would you mind staying with Cade until we get back?" he asked, still hovering in the doorway as if afraid to come fully into the room. "It shouldn't be more than a couple of hours."
"Of course," Luce agreed easily. "We were just going through some class materials, but we could order takeaway and watch a movie instead. What do you think, Cade?" I nodded, not trusting my voice. Cole's gaze was still on me, something unreadable in his expression. For a moment, he might say something more, cross the room and join us, and finally bridge the growing chasm between us. Instead, he gave me one last look, filled with guilt and what seemed like quiet resolve, before turning away.
"Thanks," he said to Luce. "We'll be back as soon as we can." And then he was gone, the sound of his footsteps fading down the hallway. Another rejection. Another abandonment. I swallowed hard against the lump in my throat, determined not to cry again. I was so tired of tears.
"So," Luce said, her voice deliberately bright as she reached for her phone. "What should we order? I'm thinking Chinese? Or maybe that Thai place you like?" I tried to focus on her words, on the simple, normal act of choosing food. But all I could think about was Cole's retreating back, the distance in his eyes, the way he couldn't seem to bear being in the same room as me anymore.
"Whatever you want is fine," I said, pulling the blanket tighter around my shoulders as if it could shield me from the pain of rejection. Luce gave me a sympathetic look but didn't push. Sheunderstood, better than most, the complicated mess of emotions I was drowning in. Instead, she pulled up the delivery app on her phone and started scrolling through options.
"Let's get a bit of everything," she decided. "And we can watch something mindless. Maybe one of those terrible rom-coms we used to laugh at?" I nodded, grateful for her attempt at normalcy, even as I wondered if I'd ever truly feel normal again. If the guys and I would ever find our way back to each other, or if what Damien had done to me had destroyed any chance of that forever.
Istood frozen outside the living room, my hand still gripping the doorframe, Cade's words reverberating through my mind like the aftershocks of an earthquake.
"I look in the mirror and I don't even see myself. I see this... ghost. This pale, frightened, broken thing that I don'trecognise."
Her voice had been so small, so hollow, nothing like the fierce, defiant girl who'd stormed into our lives and upended everything we thought we knew. The girl who'd slapped me at our first meeting, who'd stood her ground against Logan's intimidation, who'd seen through my carefully constructed walls. That Cade had burned bright purple, her hair a declaration of independence in a world that wanted to control her.
"It's just hair. But it feels like... like one more thing he took from me. One more piece of who I was that's gone."
Something clicked into place then, a memory so vivid it felt like being transported back in time. Cade, newly arrived at Covenant House, her eyes flashing with fury as Logan presented her with a list of rules. Most she'd accepted with reluctant compliance, but when he'd suggested, no demanded, changing her hair colour to something more "appropriate," she'd drawn a line in the sand.
"My hair stays purple," she'd insisted, chin lifted in defiance despite the fear I could see trembling beneath the surface. "That's non-negotiable." Logan had eventually conceded, with my persuasion, allowing her that one small victory in a war where she'd been forced to surrender so much else. Her purple hair had become a symbol of her resistance, her individuality, her refusal to be completely erased by our control. And now it was gone, faded to a washed-out blonde with only the faintest hints of lavender at the tips. Another piece of herself that Damien had stolen from her.
I backed away from the doorway silently, not wanting Cade or Luce to know I'd overheard their conversation. My mind was already racing, forming a plan that felt both ridiculous andabsolutely necessary. For the first time in weeks, I felt a spark of something other than crushing guilt and paralysing fear, something that might actually help Cade rather than burden her further with my own trauma.
I took the stairs two at a time, my heart pounding with a strange mixture of anxiety and anticipation. Ryder's door was ajar, and I pushed it open without knocking to find him hunched over his desk, scrolling through what looked like surveillance footage on one monitor while his laptop displayed class notes. He glanced up, surprised by my sudden entrance. His eyes narrowed as he took in my expression, whatever he saw there making him sit up straighter.
"You haven't talked to her yet, have you?" he accused, his tone making it clear he already knew the answer.
"No," I admitted, shifting my weight from one foot to the other. "But I have an idea." Ryder's eyebrows shot up, suspicion warring with curiosity on his face.
"An idea?"
"Grab a jacket," I said instead of explaining, already backing toward the door. "I'll tell you on the way."
For a moment, I thought he might refuse, might demand more information before agreeing to follow me on some mysterious errand. But something in my expression must have convinced him, because he simply saved his work, closed his laptop, and stood up.
"This better be good," he warned, but there was no real heat in his voice as he grabbed his leather jacket from the back of his chair.
