In my room.Positioned near the bed?
Watching everything.
“Is it broken or something…” He breaks off, his head cocked. “Shit.”
From down below, I hear a door open and slam loudly enough to rattle the entire building. Loud, a gruff voice calls out, “Rafael!”
“Stay here.” He’s gone in an instant, and not even a minute later, his voice drifts from below. “Uncle. What’s wrong?”
“They found the Wen girl,” a man declares. “Dead. In our territory. You know what that means?”
“It’s a threat,” Rafe suspects, but his voice is deeper than I’ve ever heard it, betraying a rare hint of emotion. Rage? Despair? Guilt?
“No,” the older man says, his uncle. “It is a declaration of war. Andyouare going to dictate our response to it.”
“How?” Rafe asks.
“In the only language these animals will understand,” Shen replies. “You failed to react once to a direct challenge. I know you won’t make that mistake again. The same way I know that the rumors circling about you are false.”
A deliberate pause leaves Rafe no choice but to reply. “What rumors?”
“Rumors that say you’ve been running from fights rather than finishing them more often than not,” Shen says coldly. “That you’ve been taking it upon yourself to clear debts you have no business clearing. That you’re too busy playing with your little toys rather than upholding the mantle of everything this family stands for.”
Rafe scoffs. “I’m not—”
“I know,” the older man says over him. “They’re only rumors, right? Not worth wasting time entertaining. Now come.”
Heavy footsteps retreat from the building, but the charged atmosphere remains, suffocating in its intensity. This time, Rafe doesn’t pace, wracked with some internal dilemma.
He lurks below in utter silence, and it’s like my body feeds off his tension. His anger manifests as nervous energy in me, and I find myself rummaging through my meager box of belongings.
At the very bottom, I discover my shoebox. I open it out of habit, reaching in for the assorted items inside. Nail polish. ChapStick…
A pang of alarm runs through me as I belatedly realize what wasn’t there, lying on top of the other items—the newspaper clipping. And it’s not the only thing missing. When I feel for the bracelet, I don’t find its familiar round shape. Something sharp nudges my fingertip instead, and I look down, startled to find a different object glaringly out of place.
Small and silver, the hairpin is beautifully crafted.
One I recognize with an overwhelming sense of horror that strikes like a punch to the chest.
One in the shape of a delicate butterfly.
~ The duet continues with Flame! ~
