"You have three missed calls," he says, ignoring my outstretched hand. He taps the screen. "All from your mother. And one voicemail."
"Let me talk to her. She’ll fix this. If she knows about the lobotomy..."
"She knows," Alaric says gently. Too gently. "She co-signed the order, Elodie."
The world stops. "No."
"Listen." He taps the speaker button and holds the phone out.
My mother's voice fills the room. It sounds tinny, distant."Dr. Graves? It's Martha. We... we just wanted to confirm that the transfer was successful. Charles is very worried about the press. If she—if Elodie is difficult, please just... do what needs to be done. We’ve already told the conservatory she’s had a breakdown and won't be returning. Just... make her comfortable, Doctor. And please, don't let her call us. It’s too painful for Charles."
Click.
The silence that follows is heavier than the grave.Don't let her call us.Do what needs to be done.
I feel like I’ve been hollowed out. My chest is empty. My heart is gone. They threw me away. My mother. My father. They didn't just abandon me; they erased me. To save their reputation. To save their social standing.
I stare at the phone in Alaric's hand. It looks like an alien object. A relic from a life that no longer exists.
Alaric slides the phone back into his pocket. "You are a ghost, Elodie," he says softly. "Out there, you don't exist anymore. Your apartment is being cleared out as we speak. Your piano is being sold."
A tear slides down my cheek. I don't wipe it away. I can't move. "Why are you telling me this?" I whisper. "Why not just kill me?"
"Becausetheyare the blind ones," Alaric says. He stands up and pulls me out of the chair. He pulls me into his chest, wrappinghis arms around me. I don't fight him. I don't have the strength. I just collapse against him, sobbing into the expensive cashmere of his sweater.
"They threw away a diamond because it had a sharp edge," he murmurs into my hair, his hand stroking my back in long, soothing circles. "But I like sharp edges."
He holds me while I cry. He holds me while my world burns down to ash. And in the wreckage of my life, his heartbeat is the only steady thing left.
"You are mine now," he whispers, his lips pressing a kiss to the top of my head. "And I protect what is mine. Even from themselves."
He pulls back slightly, tilting my chin up so I have to look at him. "Today, we rest. Tomorrow... we begin the work."
"What work?" I sniff, my voice trembling.
Alaric smiles. And this time, it reaches his eyes. "The deconstruction, my dear. We are going to take Elodie Fray apart, piece by piece." He brushes a tear from my cheek with his thumb. "And then I am going to build someone new. Someone who survives."
CHAPTER 03
THE SILENT HALLS
POV: Elodie Fray
Location:Dr. Graves' Private Quarters -> The West Wing Corridor
Track:Teardrop– Massive Attack (Instrumental / Dark Cello Cover)
Sensory:The scent of beeswax and antiseptic, the chill of marble floors, the suffocating silence of wealth.
Mood:Numbness & dissociation.
The breakdown does not last. Alaric does not allow it to.
He allows me exactly five minutes of weeping into his chest—five minutes where I am nothing more than a child whose world has been set on fire by the very people sworn to protect it. I soak his cashmere sweater with my grief, my body shaking with the violent, hiccuping sobs of the damned.
And then, as if a timer has clicked off in his head, he shifts.
The hand that was stroking my hair stops. The arm wrapped around my waist loosens, not to release me, but to create a professional distance. He steps back, his hands moving to grip my upper arms. He holds me there, steadying me, but the warmth is gone. The monster is back behind the wheel.
