Chapter 29: Wren
The apartment feelssmaller tonight.
It’s not.It’s the same four walls, the same narrow hall, the same couch that still smells faintly like Finn’s cologne from last night.But something about the air is different.Thicker.Heavy in the corners, like the shadows know things I don’t want to remember.
I shut the door behind me and stand there with my hand still on the lock, forehead resting against the wood.My heart hasn’t stopped its uneven rhythm since the rink, a quiet stutter that feels like footsteps I can’t hear but still sense.
Kael’s plan is still echoing in my head.
Finn’s calm voice.
Atlas’s too-big presence in the doorway.
Three different ways of holding me steady.
Three anchors I didn’t ask for and didn’t know I needed.
I peel myself away from the door and toss my keys into the dish by the counter.They clatter louder than they should.I wince.My nerves are strung like violin strings pulled too tight.
My phone is still off.Kael didn’t force me.He gave me the choice.But once I saw the three of them watching me—waiting for me to decide, not deciding for me—I pressed the button and shut the thing down.
A strange kind of relief followed.
A strange kind of grief too.
I breathe slowly, moving through the apartment without turning any of the overhead lights on.I leave the lamp near the couch lit—the same one that stayed on while Finn slept on my floor last night, refusing to leave unless I kicked him out.
I didn’t.
Tonight, though...tonight I’m alone.
And it’s the first time in a long time where alone doesn’t feel like escape.
It feels like danger.
I drop onto the couch, pull my knees up, and wrap my arms around them.The room hums quietly—a fridge cycling on, a car passing outside, distant laughter from upstairs.Familiar sounds.Harmless sounds.My brain tries to convince me otherwise.
A knock on the wall in the hallway makes my pulse spike.
It’s nothing.
Someone closing their door.
