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Stay strong, brothers.
I don’t botherwith names or writing an essay. I need it to be short and not obvious enough if it gets intercepted. Who knows what conditions he’s living in and how hidden it will be once it reaches him.
I seal it in an envelope and keep it in my bedside drawer, ready to post to Emerson as soon as I can. Joining Rori on the bed, I cradle her in my arms, kissing the top of her head, excited to share my future with her.
Ikeep my eyes peeled on his bedside drawer for days on end, waiting for the day he decides to send out the letter to Emerson. I’ve done what I can to distract Dax from finding King, but my attempts have obviously been a little futile. If this letter gets out, I’m done for.
A week after writing it, Dax finally takes it from the drawer and disappears downstairs with it. I need to get down there, but I need him distracted.
After a couple minutes, Dax comes back into the room and turns on the shower in the en suite, starting to undress.
“Ready to shower, Birdie?”
I shake my head and feign a yawn. “I’m going to have a bit of a lazier morning.”
He nods and comes over to give me a kiss, and I hate myself with each passing second. But as soon as Dax gets in the shower, I dive from the covers and run out the bedroom door.
I hate what I’m about to do, but I can’t let that letter reach Emerson. I can’t let it reach King. Carlo will find out and I’ll end up in Maxwell’s clutches.
I sprint downstairs, running into the kitchen where they keep the mail before it gets taken outside. I fly around the corner and almost bump into Maria.
“Goodness gracious, child, why are you in such a hurry?” She chuckles and I try to slow down and smile.
“Has the mail gone yet?” I ask, trying to catch my breath.
“No, dear, it’s just on the end of the counter there.” She points and I nod, thanking her.
I flick through the endless amount of letters, cursing that there are so many envelopes and packages. Why is there so much mail to go out from one house?
Finally, I notice Dax’s handwriting, a letter addressed to a completely random name at a completely random address on a white envelope. I study it for a minute to make sure this is the one, but there are no other letters with Dax’s handwriting. But it would be stupid of them to send a letter from Dax to Emerson in the Second District. That would be asking to get caught.
I pry open the letter, reading it to confirm it is in fact the right one, and my stomach twists reading his words.
Especially the words he wrote about me.
For a second, I hesitate. How can I be the one to decide if Dax gets his family back? I’ve never once had a single family member, hell, even a friend, who cared about me, who would do anything for me. Who would try to find me if I went missing.
Ididgo missing, and not one person came to my aid.
But that hesitation dissipates when I hear Carlo’s laugh booming down the hallway and I grasp the letter tightly in my hands, running into one of the many huge living rooms.
I run straight to the fire and throw the letter in without a second thought, trying to hold back any tears that want to fall at my betrayal.
If Dax ever finds out I did this, I’m sure he’ll hate me forever. But a girl’s got to survive and if it’s by betraying Dax and getting to be selfish with him at the same time, I will.
After making sure the whole letter is burned and not a single shred of evidence remains, I head back up the stairs and enter the bedroom just as Dax is walking out of the shower, a towel around his waist and water droplets glistening on his chest. His hair is even more beautiful when wet, his curls more defined and darker in colour.
“Where’d you go?” he questions and I stammer a little.
“Breakfast. I was starving,” I lie, but he buys it instantly, because why would I lie?
I approach him and wrap my arms around his waist, sinking myself into his chest.
“Birdie, you’re going to get all wet.” He laughs, wrapping his arms around my shoulders anyway. I just enjoy his embrace, hating how selfish I’m being and that I’m lying to him.
* * *
“Birdie,”Dax calls, approaching me in the gym, but he looks sweatier than I am.
