Page 78 of Requiem
The day drags on after the kiss, and I can’t focus on anything else. All I can think about is that moment…and how close we are to getting him back. The tech gang kept working, describing everything along the way, even if I couldn’t really understand it that well.
“We can see more now,” Adela had told me earlier. “But it’s like looking through glass we can’t break. It’s fuckingannoying. Every time we get close, the system reminds us exactly how bad it could go if we poke it wrong.”
Micah, Heather, Adriana, and I checked the monitors multiple times to ensure Jude was doing okay. And thankfully, he was. By the time the sky outside turns completely black, I find myself in Heather’s room while Micah gives Jude his last dose of Suboxone for the day.
She’s sitting cross-legged on the bed, her hair pulled into a loose knot, a blanket draped over her lap. The lamp beside her casts everything in a soft, golden glow that makes my tension melt away.
I sit beside her, pulling my knees up, my fingers fidgeting with the hem of the sleeve of my sweatshirt.
“So, you’re going to try again tomorrow?” she asks, her voice soft.
I nod. “Yeah.”
My throat tightens a little, but I push through it. “He controlled himself today, which is amazing.” I sigh. “If he wants to be restrained…we work with that.”
Heather studies me for a second. “And if he’s worse? More volatile?”
I hate the question, but it’s at least worth acknowledging. I stare down at my hands. “Then Micah stays closer. We shorten the time. And…we don’t push eye contact as hard.”
She reaches over, brushing her fingers lightly against mine. “You’re doing this right, Emma.”
I let out a small, humorless breath. “Thanks. I’ve never had to undo something like this before. In psychology, you learn all sorts of wild shit. But you don’t know if you’re ever going to have to use any of it.”
She chuckles softly, the sound fading to quiet as we sit together. “What do you think of Adriana?” she asks after a moment.
I can’t help but wince, the question catching me off guard. “I…I don’t know,” I admit. The only time she really talks to any of us is during dinner, when we’re all gathered in the living room and around the table. She’s always on her phone, looking really focused. But she hasn’t posted or anything, so I don’t know what she’s doing. She could very well be a ghost that just haunts us all right now with how much she’s been avoiding direct conversations.
“Micah told me that she’s having a hard time,” she murmurs, standing up to get her water bottle on the nearby dresser.
I shrug, refraining from saying,good. “I imagine. She went through a lot in there. She’s traumatized.”
Heather considers for a moment. “Do you still hate her?”
I shift, tugging the blankets up as I settle into bed. “I want to. But I can’t,” I whisper. “I don’t forgive her for what she’s done. For how she’s contributed to his situation. But I don’t…I don’t hate her.” And it’s then that I realize that.
She nods, her gaze fixed on me. “You’re a better person than I am.”
“As corny as this sounds, I’ve learned something very valuable over the years with my work,” I explain. “When you hate someone, it only causes you harm in the end. They can’t feel you hating them at all hours of the day. They don’t know that they’re keeping you up at night, imagining hitting them with a fucking truck.”
She huffs a laugh.
“I had to let that go. For Jude. And even if I don’t necessarily hate her anymore, it’s only because I chose myself. And him. Because I need him to survive this.” I find myself sitting with my feelings about her for a few heavy moments. “I don’t know which version of him I’m going to see tomorrow.”
Heather doesn’t answer, and when I glance over, she’s no longer looking at me. She’s standing at the dark window, staring out of it.
“What?” I ask quietly.
She tilts her head, like she’s listening for something she can’t quite hear. “Do you wonder about how close they might be?” she murmurs.
A chill slides down my spine.
“Alexei’s men,” she adds, her gaze still fixed outside. “If he really knows where we are…if he wasn’t bluffing…”
I follow her line of sight, but there’s nothing out there. Just trees and darkness.
“They could be out there right now,” Heather says softly. “Just…waiting. Watching the house. Counting how many of us there are. Learning our routines. Perhaps even licking their chops at the idea of taking us away.”
My heart beats faster as I think of them stalking us. “Heather, I’m sorry.” I don’t know what else to say. My best friend’s life is directly in danger right now because we’re here to save the man I love. In a perfect world, she and Micah could ride off into the sunset together.
