Page 17 of The Chosen
But Henry’s note was exactly what I needed this morning.
A reminder that he’d seen me at my lowest of lows and still chose me. Still believed I was worthy.
Still saw me as a warrior.
I slipped out of bed and into the bathroom, going about my business before splashing some water on my face to clear the cobwebs. The mirror reflected a version of me I barely recognized, my hair tousled, cheeks slightly flushed, eyes clearer than they’d been in ages.
Not haunted.
Not hollow.
Alive.
After slipping on a t-shirt and some shorts, I made my way down the hall. I wasn’t sure what scene would greet me, considering when I was last in the living room, the floor was littered with glass from stray bullets, along with Victor’s body lying in a pool of blood.
But as I looked down at the open living area from the second-floor landing, it appeared exactly like it always had, not a single indication last night ever happened. If I didn’t know better, I’d wonder if I’d imagined it all.
An excited bark tore through my thoughts, forcing my attention back to the present, and I continued down the stairs, purposefully avoiding looking at the spot where Victor’s body lay mere hours ago.
The second I stepped into the living room, my mother rounded the corner from the kitchen, Cato close on her heels, her eyes wide with concern and relief.
“Ari…” She crossed the room and pulled me into her arms, squeezing me tight. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”
I had no idea how long she’d been awake or what she knew. Based on the way she currently hugged me, I had a feeling Henry must have told her something.
“I’m okay,” I assured her, not wanting to say too much. Henry and I hadn’t exactly discussed what we were going to tell her.
“And you’re free.”
I closed my eyes, a ball of emotion tightening my throat. “I am.”
“It’s about time that bastard got what he deserved,” she bit out, holding me several more seconds before pulling back and swiping the tears from her eyes.
Cato weaseled his way between us, and I gave his head a scratch, his tail thumping excitedly in response.
“You must be starving,” Mom said, her voice still somewhat shaky. “I’ll make you something to eat.”
“You don’t have to,” I replied, starting toward the kitchen. “I can do it.”
“Let me take care of you. You’ve had to take care of me for so long. It’s my turn.”
“Okay.” I gave her a sincere smile, following her into the kitchen.
As she pulled out pans and bowls, I prepared myself a cup of coffee. After taking a sip, I hoisted myself onto one of the barstools.
“Is Henry in his office?”
“He left early to run an errand.” She glanced at the clock. “But he should be home soon.”
I nodded, taking another long sip of coffee, not pressing for details. I had a feeling I knew what this errand was, and it most likely wasn’t a stop at the nearest grocery store for a gallon of milk.
“What did Henry tell you about?—”
“I know he took care of Victor when he broke in last night.” She squeezed her eyes shut, tightening her grip on the knife. “I should have known. Cato was barking and scratching at the door to get out. I thought he wanted to try to catch that rabbit he’d been chasing all day. I never…” She trailed off. “Well, he’s finally out of our lives forever.”
I reached across the island and covered her hand with mine. “We’re finally free.”
She held my gaze for a beat, then pulled away. “Speaking of free,” she began, clearing her throat, “I’ve been thinking.”
