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She huddles her back against the door frame before she answers quietly, her voice trembling like she’s afraid of my reaction. “Because I like it in there. I feel safe in there.”
A growl forms in my throat, and I barely catch it before it leaves my lips. Instead, I spin on my heel and rake my fingers through my hair, gripping some strands in the back and giving them a yank. The slight pain does nothing to calm the raging pain and anger I feel. Doe doesn’t understand. There’s no way she could understand the magnitude of her going in that room. No one does, not even my family or Tavers. That room is sacred and the only thing I have left of Aislin except for the few trinkets I have of hers in a small box. I’ve been fooling myself into thinking I could one day go in there and go through her things. Get rid of the nonimportant items and maybe keep a few of the significant ones. That room will stay as it is for as long as I live. Knowing someone went in there, rifling through her things...
A thought occurs to me, and I spin around to face Doe again. She still has her back against the frame of the door. Seeing her so scared does something to my chest. As much as I hate knowing she’s been in Aislin’s room, I equally hate knowing I’ve frightened her.
“That’s where you went,” I state then watch confusion flash over her face. “When you broke into the house. That’s the room you stayed in.”
Tears fill Doe’s eyes, and she looks down again. Her hands aren’t balled into fists this time; instead, she has one hand over the bracelet, almost as if she’s protecting it.
“Why?” I ask and take a small step toward her. “Why did you break into my house?”
This is the first time I’ve brought it up, hoping she would tell me on her own. She never did, and over the past few days, I’ve pushed it to the back of my mind. I don’t step too close, but I bend my knees until I can see her face. Tears leak from her eyes, and she’s biting her bottom lip. After a moment, she lifts her eyes back to mine.
“I didn’t have anywhere else to go,” she whispers brokenly.
“Why that house, though?” I press.
I’m being a dick and pushing her too hard, especially after the stressful day she had, but this is something I need to know.
“Why, Doe?”
“I don’t know!” she shouts, surprising me. “It was just the first house I came across that didn’t look like anyone lived there! That room was the only room that had a bed, and I was so tired. I just wanted to sleep.”
By the time she’s done, her chest is heaving up and down. Her eyes are tightly closed, but tears still flood from them, soaking her cheeks. I fight back the urge to pull her in my arms and comfort her as my anger from a few minutes ago dwindles. This woman has been through so much already, and here I am, putting her through more. She was lost and broken and had nowhere to go. It’s not her fault she picked the one house and one bedroom that had so many terrible memories.
“Doe. Look at me,” I say gently, needing to fix this somehow.
She shakes her head, and it only makes me more determined.
Before I get a chance to call her name again, my phone rings in my pocket. I snatch the device out and glare down at the screen, already pissed at the person who’s calling at the worst time possible.
Mom calling…
I lift my eyes to Doe at the same time I swipe my finger across the screen, preparing to tell Mom I’ll call her back later.
“Mom, now’s not a good—”
“Niko?”
My back stiffens at my mom’s tearful tone.
“What’s wrong?” I demand.
“Oh, Niko,” she cries. “It’s your father. He’s had a heart attack.”
