Dasha reads the room and leaves, giving us a moment alone.
“I’m so, so sorry.” I kiss his cheek. “It’s my fault. I told Dasha to check the bones and I...”
But instead of answering, he kisses me again.
“It’s been a long day, Kitten,” he breathes out. “Thanks to you, they got the diary, and they found out Viviane didn’t fall. She was pushed by Lilibeth. They also found out Helena discovered the diary two months before she died and read everything that happened.”
He takes my hand. “Now it all points to Lilibeth drowning her in a bathtub, then killing herself after. There are some inconsistencies, but they’ll investigate that further.”
I blink at him, scanning his face, and swallow my words. “I have to tell you something.”
He rubs his eyes as he sits beside me.
“I was the one who freed Daniel.” I say.
He closes his eyes and lets out a breath, his knuckles turning white as his fingers clench into fists.
I place my hand over his. “But not because I wanted him out there. It’s because I wanted him to pay for all the years he kept me trapped.”
His eyes open and lock on mine. “What did you do?”
“I locked him in a trunk and pushed the car off the cliff.” I swallow. “At the same spot where he left me six years ago.”
“He’s gone now,” I say, resting my palm against his cheek. “He can’t hurt any of us anymore.”
He leans his head against my chest and closes his eyes. “I hate what he took from you.” He lifts his gaze to me, looking up into my eyes. “You used to be so happy and innocent, and now that part of you is gone.”
“We change.” I look at him and blink. “And believe me, this version of me is better than the one I was before.”
“Even if you had thousands of versions of yourself, I would still fall in love with every single one, Kitten,” he says, standing and holding his hands out to me.
I place my palm in his, and he guides me upstairs.
It’s true. Inside every single one of us, there is someone else. A version waiting to be awakened. And it only takes the right person to bring the right version of you to life.
Twenty-Two
AURELIA
Iwoke up earlier today, and it isn’t from lack of sleep. It’s because I can’t sleep without Nathaniel around. Last night, I heard him talking to Victor about having to take care of Daniel’s remains. They took off around three in the morning, and they still aren’t back.
A dull sickness sits in my stomach, like something inside me already knows this day won’t end well.
I push out of bed and hurry to the bathroom. The second I reach it, I drop to my knees and bury my head over the toilet, the nausea tearing up from my stomach until there’s nothing left to do but let it happen.
I stay there for a moment, one hand hanging at my side while the other grips the toilet seat.
Some things in life hit before you’re ready, and this is one of them. I’m not ready to be sick. Not now, when everything finally feels like it’s starting to fall into place.
I force myself back to my feet and move to the sink, turning on the water and letting the steam crawl up the mirror until the glass clouds over. I see a shadow. Something moving behind me.
I rub at my face and reach for the towel, freezing in place.
I can’t turn around. The feeling of someone’s hand comes to my shoulder, and the second I open my eyes, a scream rips out of me.
“Miss Vale,” Margaret says.
My breathing turns shallow as I spin toward her. “Margaret, you scared me.”
