Page 8 of Requiem
Upstairs, Emma is finally asleep. Barely, though. We had tomakeher take something. She was spiraling—crying, shaking, struggling to breathe after those videos came through. I can still hear it. The girl kept saying his name, as if it might actually do something.
Heather’s with her for now, likely watching her sleep. She was distraught when she saw Jude, too. They’ve known him longer than me, but I know him better.
Adriana took the couch upstairs shortly after Emma started losing it. She couldn’t seem to handle everything anymore and was beginning to truly crash. The bitch is definitely traumatized as well. Everyone basically hates her. Heather almost punched her in the face after Emma went upstairs. So this is going to be difficult.
I scrub a hand over my mouth, dragging my gaze back to the screen. “I’m talking to Adriana in the morning,” I say. “Alone.”
Rafe hums faintly. “Do that. But then we’re going to need to all sit down.”
On the monitor, Jude stumbles, catching himself on the edge of the bed before shoving away from it again, breathing hard.
I feel something twist in my chest. “He’s in there,” I say quietly. “Somewhere.”
Rafe finally glances at me. For a second, there’s something almost human in his expression. Then it’s gone. “Yes,” he says. “But he’s buried under layers of conditioning, chemical dependency, and trauma.”
I look back at the screen. Jude is shaking again, his head dropping forward. “Then we dig him out,” I mutter.
Rafe studies me for a moment before turning his attention back to the monitors. “That’s not how deprogramming works,” he says.
My jaw tightens. “Then explain it.”
Rafe leans back, folding his arms. “You don’tremoveconditioning,” he says. “You replace it.”
I frown, glancing at him again. “What?”
“His brain has been trained to associate specific stimuli with specific responses,” he adds. “You don’t just erase that. You introducenewassociations through repetition, consistency, and control. Our little therapist knows that. She understandspreciselyhow hard this can be.”
My stomach sinks the more he talks. “How long?”
Rafe doesn’t answer right away.
On the screen, Jude reaches for the mask on the table, but the chains don’t let him get that far.
“Depends,” Rafe says finally. “On how deep it goes.”
My gaze stays locked on Jude, and on the way he moves. “And what if it’s too deep?” I ask, terrified to hear his honest answer.
Rafe is quiet for a second, but it feels too long. “Then we don’t get him back.”
The words pierce my heart as I watch Jude slam his shoulder into the wall, like he’s trying to break out of his own body. “No,” I say under my breath, shaking my head.
Not happening.
Not after everything we’ve gone through.
My hands curl into fists at my sides as I stare at the screen, refusing to look away. “We’re getting him back,” I say, louder this time.
I don’t know if I’m saying it to Rafe or to myself. Or to the broken version of my best friend tearing himself apart on the other side of that wall. I don’t realize I’m moving until I’m already halfway to the stairs. “I need air,” I mutter, but I don’t wait for a response. If I stay down there another second, I’m going to lose it. The stairs creak under my weight as I take them two at a time, breath coming fast.
Adriana is passed out on the couch, one arm hanging off the edge, her hair a mess across her face. She doesn’t stir when I pass. For a second, I slow, my gaze catching on her.
She warned us. She told us exactly what he’d become.
Fuck.
I look away. I can’t deal with that right now. I keep moving, heading straight for the back of the house.I’m going to fucking explode.But I don’t want to wake anyone, especially Emma. The sliding glass doors reflect a warped version of me as I reach for the handle—pale, drawn, like I haven’t slept in days. The door slides open, and cold air rushes at me, providing fast relief for my overheated skin.
I shove my feet into my shoes without thinking and step outside, closing the door quietly behind me. Snow is falling again, just enough to dust everything in white. It’s soft and quiet as it drifts down through the dark. The moon casts just enough light to see the outline of the trees…and beyond them, the river.
