Page 21 of What We Don't Say: Part Two

C.

The letter comes out jagged. My hand cramps before I finish the curve, and pain travels up my forearm in a hot line. I don’t stop. I write the next letter, then the next, each one too large and uneven, the pen dragging where my grip fails.

a. l. l. i. e.

I have to stop after her name. My eyes blur so badly the page swims, and for a second, all I can see is her on the voicemail I never got to hear, her voice going to Zana instead of us, safe and willing, safe and willing, like safety is something she might have somewhere without me. I make myself breathe. Sloane’s hand is flat on the floor near the notebook, close enough that I can see the tremor in his fingers. He doesn’t touch the page.

I force the comma onto the paper.

Callie,

The next word is harder because it’s where the lie lives. My hand wants to fold around the pen and never open. Garrett’s voice is still in the room, telling me abandonment, telling me structure, telling me she chose distance. The messages are in my head too, my name beside words I never wrote, my picture above a sentence that made her think I didn’t want her in the nest. I press my lips together until they hurt and write through the cramp.

you didn’t

The apostrophe's a dark little slash. My hand jerks after it, and the pen skids. Idris’ breath catches near my ear, but he doesn’t speak. Sloane makes a sound so low it barely becomes sound at all.

I keep going.

leave me

The last word tears through the page. The pen catches on the paper, digs in, and rips a small black wound through the fibers. Pain locks my hand into a claw. I drop the pen because I can’thold it anymore, because the sentence is out now and I don’t know how to survive the shape of it where everyone can see.

Callie, you didn’t leave me.

Sloane covers his mouth with one hand. His eyes are on the page, but his face looks like he’s seeing her instead. Idris bows his head over my shoulder, and for a moment, his cheek rests against my hair.

I stare at the torn paper until the words stop moving.

“She didn’t,” Sloane says at last. His voice sounds scraped raw, but it doesn’t shake. “She didn’t leave you, sweetheart.”

I look at the page because I can’t look at him. “She thinks I did.”

“No,” Idris says, and grief moves through that single word so heavily that I feel it against my back. “She thinks someone wearing your name did. That isn't the same thing, Theo.”

“It feels the same to her.”

Sloane lowers his hand from his mouth. His face is wet now, and he doesn’t wipe it away. “Then we make sure she hears the truth from us. From you. However long it takes.”

Sloane reaches for his phone, slow enough that I know he’s making sure the movement doesn’t scare me. “I’m calling Zana,” he says, voice low and ruined and finally moving. “Then I’m going to the police.”

Idris nods against my hair. His bandaged hand stays where I can see it. I close my eyes and press my face back into Callie’s sweater, a small cracked purr starting up in my chest again.

Callie, you didn’t leave me.

Idris

We move into the kitchen before Sloane makes the call. Zana answers on the second ring, and the sound of her voice nearly makes Sloane come apart before she finishes saying my name. Sloane stands beside the kitchen island with Theo tucked against his side.

The page from Theo’s notebook lies between us, creased at one corner from Sloane touching it too carefully and then pulling back like the paper might burn him.Callie, you didn’t leave me.

I keep the phone on speaker. “Zana,” I say, and my voice sounds almost normal if no one knows me. “Theo found Garrett’s phone. There were messages to Callie from Theo that Theo never sent. Sloane sent a test text to Callie’s number, and Garrett’s phone received it. We deleted the test message and put the phone back where he left it.”

The silence on the other end of the line lasts long enough for Sloane’s arm to tighten around Theo. Our Omega’s face stays pressed against Sloane’s shirt, but his eyes are open, wet and fixed on the notebook page. His purr keeps catching, those small frayed bursts that sound like a body trying to soothe everyone with nothing left to spend.

“Do not confront Garrett about the phone,” Zana says. She sounds awake now, every edge sharpened. “Do not mention the test. Do not touch his device again unless there is immediate physical danger. You need independent confirmation through another channel before he knows you understand the reroute.”

Sloane’s head lifts, and the pain in his voice hits the pack bond before the words come out. “Another channel? He used Theo’s name. He used my baby’s phone. Callie is somewhere thinking we threw her away, and you want another channel?”