She shakes her head, her lips pressing into a thin line as she stands and steps away from me, clutching the wall as if it might shield her from the world. “You shouldn’t be here,” she whispers, her voice trembling with a fear that resonates deep within me. “You need to leave.”
“I won’t hurt you,” I say gently, taking another step closer, hoping to bridge the gap between us. “I just want to help. Please.”
“You couldn’t understand…”
“I understand pain and loss more than most people,” I tell her, giving a soft smile.
Her eyes dart between me and the door, panic flashing across her features, but something in my tone seems to soften her resistance. She doesn’t move away as I approach, though her hands remain firmly pressed against the name carved into the stone.
“Timothy Greenwal,” I say quietly, reading the name aloud. “Who is he?”
Her face crumples at the question, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks as she stares at the name. “He was my son,” she whispers, her voice breaking on the last word, and my heart twists painfully.
“I’m so sorry,” I say, taking a deep breath.It’s never easy to lose anyone, but your child?“What was he like?”
Her fingers trace the letters of his name as if she can bring him back through sheer will. “He was wonderful,” she says simply, her voice hollow and devoid of hope. “Smart, kind, and everything a mother should be proud of.”
I’m quiet, letting the weight of her words sink in, giving her space to speak if she wants to. Loss is different for everyone, I know that, but I also know that I always wished I had someoneto talk to about my dad. Screaming into the night always felt so hollow.
“I lost someone, too,” I say, my voice soft, trying to connect. “My father and my mother. They died when I was young.”
Her eyes lift to mine, unreadable except for the faint glimmer of understanding beneath the surface. “How did you survive it?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.
I take a deep breath, the memories rushing back like a tidal wave. “I was so young, I hardly understood what grief was,” I admit, my voice trembling as I allow the memories to flow. “But I felt it, even if I couldn’t name it. I grieved for a long time. I had to keep going, though. There was no one else to hunt for food, to fix the cabin. I went through the motions because I had to, but… I wasn’t living. Not really.”
The weight of my words hangs in the air, and I can see her eyes glistening with unshed tears as she listens, her posture less guarded now.
I press on, my voice trembling. “There were days I wanted to give up. To just… stop. But something inside me wouldn’t let me. I kept going, even when it felt pointless. And eventually, it got easier. The pain never went away, but it became… bearable. And I realized that my father wouldn’t have wanted me to stop living. He’d have wanted me to fight, to survive.”
Her tears fall freely now, and before I can say more, she turns to me and wraps her arms around me. I freeze, startled by the sudden gesture, but then I hug her back, holding her tightly as she sobs into my shoulder.
“Thank you,” she whispers, her voice muffled against my shirt. “Thank you for understanding.”
We stay like that for what feels like an eternity, two strangers connected by shared pain, the sound of her sobs laced with the echoes of my own heartache. Loss… grief… it’s truly brutal. No one understands it until they do.
When she finally pulls away, her face is streaked with tears, but there’s a new resolve in her eyes. She leans in, her voice dropping to a trembling whisper. “You have to leave,” she says, her breath warm against my ear. “You and your friends… they plan to kill you tonight. To eat you. Just like they did to the others. Just like they did to my son. If you don’t escape, you’ll die.”
My blood turns to ice, and I pull back to look at her, searching her face for any hint of deception. But all I see is fear and desperation, a raw honesty that sends shivers down my spine. This is not a game. This is survival.
Her hands clutch mine tightly, her fingers cold against my skin. “Please. You have to believe me. Get out while you can.”
Before I can ask anything more, she pulls away and bolts for the door, disappearing into the shadows of the hall. Panic surges through me, and I’m left standing there, my heart pounding, her words echoing in my mind like a relentless drumbeat.
They plan to kill us tonight.
To eat us.
I stagger back, my hands trembling as I clutch the wall for support.We’re not safe. We have to get out. Now.
Ashton’s voice calls out from the hall, snapping me back to reality, and I take a deep breath, forcing myself to move. I step back into the corridor, heart pounding.
“What happened?” he asks, all four of the men looking at me with concern.
I open my mouth, and the words just fall out. “We need to leave. Now.”
16
Cassius
