Page 168 of These Tears

And he watches it fall.

The hard angles of his face soften. He pushes away from the wall – one smooth step back.

His eyes still hold mine with that same dark knowing that needs no questions, because it already owns the answers.

‘He’s okay,’ I manage, voice thin as paper. ‘He’s… teaching me. Things.’

Anna sighs down the line. ‘Conall told me we’re not supposed to talk about it, but I hope things get resolved soon.’

A breath gets stuck between my teeth.

Conall? What things? What are we not supposed to talk about? Is this why she is so calm knowing that Elias is with me even though she’d seen the news the night before I left England?

I want to scream it out. I want to sob into the receiver until the sound becomes something unrecognisable. But the only thing that escapes me is a shaky, ‘Me too,’ and then my throat locks up entirely.

A beat passes – or an eternity.

Then she inhales again and says gently, ‘Well, do you think you’ll get a chance to call me more often from now on?’

Another tear slips free.

I’m shaking my head even though she can’t see, because I can’t make my tongue form anything coherent. The truth is too big; the fear even bigger.

Elias’ hand reaches in, and he takes the receiver gently from me. He leans closer again, close enough that my skin pebbles as it recognises his heat, even though my stomach turns over. His gaze stays on mine – inches from me, roaming my face, catching on my mouth, lifting back to my eyes. Violating without a touch. Claiming without permission.

‘Hi! Annabelle, is it?’ he says.

Anna’s voice changes instantly. ‘Who’s this?’

‘We haven’t officially met,’ he replies smoothly, with a smile as if plucked from a cherub and sewn onto his face. ‘This is Elias. How do you do?’

‘Oh!’ she exclaims, and something falls in the background. ‘Yes—Elias. How do you do?!’

He gives one of those rehearsed, warm chuckles – the low, rumbling fragment of charm he’d used on me once before. The same one he’d hidden behind at the airport, the one that made everyone forget to look closer at the teeth that formed it.

‘I’m sure you already know mobile reception is bad around here,’ he says easily, as if we’re talking about weather and not captivity. ‘I’ll make sure she gets the chance to call more often.’

Like a hatchet to my gut.

My knees, already weakened, threaten to buckle.

I try to assemble the pieces of my composure as Anna and Elias go back and forth over trivialities – weather, the cold, something Anna saw about a winter festival in these parts—

Then I hear a soft laugh. ‘Make sure to make her call me on her birthday.’

My birthday… Wait what date is today?

My mind jerks. His voice shifts; something in the cadence tightens.

He ends the call quickly. Then bends closer. The receiver settles back into its cradle with a foreboding click.

Fury burns behind his eyes, contained beneath the same cold restraint I’ve learnt always precedes something worse.

‘Always plotting,’ he murmurs, deceptively soft. ‘Were you going to call the authorities? And tell them what? You’re a foreigner with no passport, no car. How far do you think you’d get before I found you, Leah?’

Panic dries my throat.

‘Wipe your tears,’ he says, rushed, frantic nearly. As though he can’t stand a single droplet carving paths down my already soaked cheeks. ‘Now.’