Every secret carries a weight.
Every choice leaves a mark.
And when all the pieces finally align,
what remains is not absolution…
but the cost of knowing.
34
JUSTIN
Silence has weight in this place—and it presses back.
The church is quiet in a way that unsettles me, not empty but watchful, like it’s holding its breath. I stop mid-step, keys still clenched in my hand, every instinct snapping into focus. The air feels charged, wrong. The main floor stretches out before me, bare and shadowed, but the emptiness offers no comfort. If anything, it sharpens the tension coiling tight in my chest.
I scan the space anyway. The altar. The aisles. The darkened corners where light doesn’t quite reach. Nothing moves.
Then the heavy front doors creak open.
The sound carries—unrushed, certain—echoing too loudly in the stillness. I hear the footsteps before I hear him, measured and unhurried, the kind that assume they belong wherever they land. The noise tracks closer, each step tightening the knot between my ribs, until I know exactly who it is long before his voice reaches me.
“Justin.”
Titan fills the doorway like a storm—big, unavoidable, and capable of leveling whatever’s in front of him if the mood strikes.He’s dressed in black, as always, rain darkening the ends of his brown hair. The room subtly recalibrates around him, gravity bending in his favor without permission.
Beside him stands Lily.
Her braid hangs loose over one shoulder, a few strands slipping free, her eyes bright. She looks softer than the last time I saw her—healed in ways she fought viciously to earn. Seeing her here knocks something loose in my chest.
It’s not love or regret. Just the quiet, bittersweet ache of someone I loved the wrong way—and let go of for the right reasons.
“I wasn’t expecting you two,” I admit.
Titan’s head tilts as his gaze sweeps the room, cataloguing threats that don’t exist—or maybe ones that only he can see.
“We were in the area.”
It’s a lie. We both know it.
Lily smiles before I can call him on it. Warm. Unguarded. Then she closes the distance and wraps her arms around me like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
I freeze for half a second before returning it.
My eyes lift over her shoulder, automatically checking Titan.
If I said he’s mellowed when it comes to Lily, I’d be lying. His jaw tightens. His eyes sharpen. There’s a familiar, lethal tension in his posture, like he’s ready to snap my neck. Another second and he’ll decide I’ve held her too long and redecorate the room with my blood.
I release her. Slowly.
“It’s good to see you,” I tell her.
Titan exhales through his nose, the moment passing—but not forgotten.
“What’s with the facelift?” he asks, nodding toward the flyers and trestle tables.
“We’re moving outreach here. New headquarters; we’ve outgrown the old.”
