“And now, we belong to you,” an brown-haired man to my left says, speaking for the first time. He gives me a kind smile. “Myname is Maximus. I was your mothers accountant. I knew her for many years. I’m truly sorry for your loss.”
I swallow hard, and jerk a nod. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Why are you here?” Hunter asks brusquely. I shoot him a wide-eyed look and he clears his throat. I don’t miss his wince of pain. “I’m sorry. That came out wrong. If you were Madeline’s accountant, why are you…”
He trails off, gesturing to the room awkwardly. Maximus doesn’t take offense, simply smiling.
“How does a simple accountant land a chair at a table this important?” He smiles, but there’s deep pain behind his eyes. “Because there weren’t enough of us remaining to fill the seats left behind by the ghosts of our loved ones.”
Suddenly, Gage’s voice surrounds me, the timber so deep it nearly sends shivers down my spine.
“The Circle was composed of avid supporters of the Moreau’s. But it all fell apart the night of the explosion. Everyone fled, hid. Now they’ve either relocated or have died.”
As if his words have unlocked something I’d kept hidden, more memories start to trickle through my foggy mind. Everything around me spins, and I suck in a sharp breath, palming my throbbing head. My palms sweat, my heart thunders in my chest. I can vaguely hear the frantic note of familiar voices, but I can’t focus, it’s too late, I’m too far gone. Flickers of random memories pulse through me, one after another like a macabre slideshow.
A treehouse.
A tiny blonde boy with glasses, sad eyes, and bruises.
“Hi,” he murmurs with a sweet blush. “I’m Alec, but my friends call me Stone.”
“What do you want me to call you?”
“Whatever you want.” He adjusts his glasses and scoots over, making room for me in the treehouse. “What’s your name?”
Holding out my hand, I give him a big smile. “You can call me Sk—” My mouth snaps shut. Aunty Char said I’m never allowed to tell anyone my name. It’s not safe. But he told me his, and not saying anything back is weird.
“Do you speak French?” I ask. His face scrunches up and he shakes his head. I grin. Good. “Call me Cielo.”
Oh my god.
Chapter 25
Alec. My Alec. Hewas there. He knew me when I was young. Knew who I was, who I am, and said nothing.
A cage.
Pain.
“They were drug addicts, but they were a part of the Circle. No one questioned why they treated me as if I was barely more than a dog. I had nothing.”
But in that treehouse, we had each other.
Black dots dance behind my eyes as my veins fill with ice. It's like the world has tilted, leaving me grasping for something solid, something real. My Alec. The one who held my heart in his hands, who saw me when no one else did, who whispered promises of forever when the world felt too big, too cruel.
Now those memories are like shards of glass, cutting into my skin, drawing blood. He was there. For months, he watched silently as I stumbled through the darkness, searching for truth, searching for him.
And he said nothing.
The silence screams in my ears, a deafening roar that drowns out everything else.
I can’t breathe, can’t think, as the realization sinks in, twisting my insides into knots. How could he? How could he look at me, day after day, and keep that secret buried deep? My trust, my love—it feels like it’s crumbling, turning to ash in my hands.
Every moment we shared feels tainted now, poisoned by the truth he hid from me. I can almost feel the betrayal seeping into my bones, a cold, relentless ache that refuses to let go.
My Alec.
But is he really mine, or has he always belonged to the shadows?
