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And it makes it hard to breathe.
“Beast …” I say as I sink to the floor, feeling like the world is slowly caving in on me.
I thought I’d find him here. That he’d be lying here in a puddle of his own blood. Dead.
Instead, it’s almost like he never existed at all.
All that remains of him is a bloodstain, spreading like poison across the concrete floor.
Where did they take him?
Tears form in my eyes.
I came here because I needed to know the truth. If he was even alive at all.
But now I’ll never know.
And I didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye.
* * *
I haveto physically drag myself toward our room in the shoddy hotel. But the second I open the door and step one foot inside, my father is immediately up in my face.
“Where were you? Did anyone follow you?”
“What? No, of course not,” I reply, passing by him.
“How do you know? Did you even check before you came back?” He pushes me away and glares into the hallway like a hawk before shutting the door behind me. “What did you even do out there?”
“What’s with all the questions?” I reply.
He grabs my shoulders and shakes me around like a doll. “Answer me, Aurora!”
I’m flabbergasted. It’s been a long time since he put his hands on me like this.
I used to cower in fear and cry when he would … but I’m not that same girl I used to be.
I shove him away. “I went back to the warehouse.”
His eyes slowly widen, like he realizes I made his worst fear a reality.
Suddenly, he bursts into a rage, clutching my collar. “Are you out of your goddamn mind?”
“Let go of me.” I slap his hand off my clothes, and I turn around and walk toward the window to gaze outside. I don’t even know what I’m looking at, but anywhere is better than having to look at my father. “I did what I had to do.”
“Do what? Throw yourself at the enemy?” he says through gritted teeth. “After all that effort to escape?”
“I needed to know if he was alive!” I yell. Turning to face him, I show him all the rage coiled up inside me.
For a moment, he simply stares at me. “He’s literally a killer who tried to murder both of us, and you care whether he’s even alive?”
“He’s theonlyreason we still breathe,” I spit back, taking ample time to articulate my words because I want my father to take them seriously. “He deserved far more than what he got.”
Suddenly, the door handle is jiggled, and we both fall silent. Instantly.
My eyes are drawn to the door. So are my father’s.
The fumbling doesn’t stop.
