Page 139 of Chasing Ruin
“Peanut butter,” he says suddenly, voice still tight. “Jam. Uh… mussels?”
I stare at him like he’s lost his mind. But then I realize what he’s saying. Or rather… asking.
“What did they d-do to you?” He coughs out a strained laugh.
I watch him struggle to keep his grin up. A boyish one that once irritated the hell out of me.
Right now, I wish it weren’t this wobbly or pained.
“They did nothing,” I croak, voice thick with tears. “You did.”
“Aw, Charlotte,” he says as he wipes his tears on his arm—sniffling. “I’m sorry. Remind me w-what I did?”
My lip trembles as I notice his frail grin slip away briefly. Then it’s back again—weaker.
“You… you stocked my kitchen,” I whisper, but my tone fails to sound accusatory.
His smile widens, lips cracking. “I stalked you, too. Still m-mad about that?”
I press my lips together, my chin scrunching as I fight the urge to break apart all over again. Then I shake my head—jerky, uneven.
Have I forgiven him?
I don’t know.
Am I mad right at this moment?
No, I’m not.
The realization settles heavy in my chest. Quiet. Somber.
Theo’s shoulders loosen just a fraction. His smile softens, relief flickering through the pain etched into his face.
But it doesn’t erase the terror beneath it. Nothing can.
Then—a sound.
Distant at first.
A ripple.
Gasps. Whimpers. Chains shifting. Bodies tensing.
My head snaps to the side as the energy around us changes. The men and women in the neighboring cells stiffen—some shrinking into themselves, others trembling violently.
Fear. Raw. Immediate. All-consuming.
Clack.
Clack.
Clack.
Heels.
Sharp against stone.
The sound cuts through the space like a blade.
