My mind is still clouded, thoughts a turbulent storm as I walk. My hair is a mess, my body taut with paranoia, every nerve screaming as I glance over my shoulder, expecting the world to strike at any moment.
After everything that happened, we returned to the hotel. Estella drifted into sleep almost immediately. I wanted to follow her into that fragile oblivion, but I couldn’t. Not when I knew Jason was waiting for me at the base. Surprisingly, he hadn’t called again after our last encounter. The hotel remained quietall evening and through half the night—an eerie, suffocating silence.
I quicken my pace, thoughts colliding and spinning out of control. My body still trembles, a low hum of unrest vibrating through every muscle. I’d be lying if I said I feel better, because I don’t.
Some memories exist in our minds for a reason: locked away, buried under layers of survival instinct. And now, after facing them, after uncovering the truth behind the feelings that haunted me, shock still claws at my brain.
Estella’s presence was a lighthouse in that storm, guiding me through my darkest corners. She helped me process the wreckage, revealing one feeling that burns brighter now that the raw pain has been muffled.
Rage.
Pure, untamed, unrelenting rage. For both of us. Neither of us wanted it to come to this, yet despite every effort, it’s all we’re left with. It’s a feeling that hums in the air like static, a bitter reminder that we are never enough.
Thunder rumbles overhead, and a jagged lightning strike cleaves the darkness, illuminating the night for a heartbeat. The moon hides behind thick clouds, its faint glow failing to cast comfort. Estella sleeps in the hotel, while I wander alone, heading to the base with no clear direction, driven only by the fury building inside me.
I don’t know how I’ll explain it to Jason. How do I tell him it was all a lie? That my pursuit of comfort was a futile chase, that my parents were monsters who preyed on me, stripping away my defenses until I no longer recognized myself?
Fuck this mission. Fuck my parents. Fuck The Order.
They’ve tried to separate me from Estella, to fracture the one thing that grounds me, but I will do everything in my power to stop them.
She is my everything. She holds my life in her hands, and I would let her take it without hesitation if that’s what she desired. Because there will never be another like her—no one who sees me completely, who reads through me without judgment.
Another growl of thunder rolls across the sky as I finally reach the base. My hand tightens around the door handle as I inhale sharply before pushing inside.
The moment I step in, I freeze. My eyes lock on Jason, standing over a table strewn with folders and papers, chaos spilling across its surface. It doesn’t take long to realize what they are. I can even see the box of souvenirs I left back in my apartment in Barcelona.
Rage ignites in me again, brighter and hotter than before, pushing every other thought aside.
“How did you get these files?” I ask, my voice tight with fury.
Jason runs a hand through his hair, the motion frantic. He’s a mess—half his shirt untucked, sweat darkening the fabric around his collar, armpits glistening under the harsh light, chaos reflected in every movement.
“I knew something was off from the beginning, fuck, we both did,” Jason says, his voice disturbingly calm. A brittle chuckle rattles out of him, dry and humorless, scraping at the air. “Lucia was the one trying to shove the suspicions away. She kept telling me, ‘No, Jason, he’s just struggling. It’s how he copes. He’s always been like that.’”
The muscle in my jaw twitches violently. “Get to the point, Jason. Tell me how the fuck you got these files.”
I remember every step I took with razor clarity—every precaution, every deletion. I saved the information about Estella to a flash drive, printed the only copies, then wiped my computer clean. Nothing should’ve remained.
“You started acting weird,” he continues, as if explaining obvious math to a child. “So I activated a precaution. Yourcomputer synced with mine—anything you clicked, anything you searched, any link you opened. Your browser history alone was enough.”
Rage blooms inside me like a field of early-spring flowers bursting through frost. “You could’ve used that a long time ago. So why now?”
He shrugs, pushing papers aside with a careless sweep of his hand. “Guess I didn’t want to believe it. Lucia’s influence, maybe. But you forgot something important.” His gaze hardens. “Theodore’s mansion has cameras, even underground.”
My entire body locks, and my fists tighten. Heat slams through me, pumping adrenaline into my bloodstream.
He saw it. All of it.
Every moment Estella touched me, every second our bodies collided, every breath I took as I shattered in her arms.
We didn’t know the room existed because it wasn’t on any of the maps, and we sure as fuck didn’t know there were any cameras down there.
The buzzing itch beneath my skin turns violent. I stare at him, but rage blinds everything else, bleaching the world until only that scorching white heat remains.
My eyes drop to the desk, to the files. To the evidence of every private, intimate search I conducted. Every detail I gathered about Estella—protected, hidden, buried away where no one was supposed to look.
When I look back at him, I no longer see the man I’ve known for years. I don’t see a partner who shared my interests, a friend who stood beside me through thick and thin.
