She'd seen the dark. She'd touched the flame but she still wanted to know what lit the match. She couldn't sleep, Ellie lay in her bed that night, still dressed, her fingers pressed into the silk of her sheets like they were the only things keeping her grounded. She could still feel the cold metal of that key, still hear the girl's voice whispering "please...". Still see Amy's face in the dark stoic, still, impossibly calm. It should have broken her, It didn't. What broke her was the silence Amy left her with, the quiet weight of a choice: walk away, or walk deeper and here she was, back. She wasn't sure if she came to confront Amy or to confess something she hadn't figured out yet. All she knew was this; she needed to see her again to understand, to ask why? Warehouse, midnight, rain, again. Ellie stood in the center of the room this time no shadows, no hiding. When the black car pulled up, she didn't flinch, when the heavy boots clicked across the concrete, she didn't move. Amy stepped through the warehouse doors and paused when she saw her, she said nothing at first just stared, then, you're back. I never said I wouldn't be.
Amy's eyes flicked to the pocket of Ellie's coat. You still have the key? Ellie pulled it out, held it up, let it shine in the faint light like it was made of gold instead of blood. Did you leave that door open on purpose? Amy didn't answer right away, she took off her gloves slowly, deliberately, like stripping a layer of control from her skin, Maybe. Why? I wanted to see who you are when no one's watching. And now that you've seen me? Amy stepped closer, you didn't run. I almost did but you didn't. Ellie looked up at her. Why her? The girl in the room. Amy sighed, looked away, for the first time, she seemed... tired not weak, just human. It wasn't easy to talk about.
She hated that Ellie had seen the room. Hated that she'd walked into the one place Amy kept locked to everyone even herself but she hated lying to her more and that thought alone terrified her. She was hired, Amy said by a rival family. A message wrapped in a smile.
You trusted her? I trusted the one who introduced her and she poisoned someone.
Amy nodded slowly, my sister, half-sister. Only person I had left who hadn't tried to sell me for a bag of money or a shot at power. She took one sip, collapsed in my arms. Spent three days between life and death. Ellie's breath caught Amy didn't meet her gaze.
I kept that girl alive so I'd never forget what it felt like. The price of letting people too close.
Silence, And then Why are you letting me close? Ellie whispered, Amy finally looked at her, That's what keeps me up at night.
The space between them wasn't space at all, it was fire no one touched, No one had to. Amy's voice had dropped to a whisper now, a confession carried on smoke.
You remind me of someone, she said
Giulia, Ellie replied without thinking. Amy's expression didn't change but her eyes darkened. How do you know that name?
I... I don't. I mean, I've heard it. My family says it sometimes. They say she was a disgrace. That she was sent away after she got pregnant as a girl. Do they ever talk about who the father was? No, Ellie said. But I know they hate him. Amy stepped back, just slightly, like the air between them had suddenly gotten too thick. Why did they keep you in that house so long? she asked quietly, Because I wasn't supposed to ask questions, And now? Now I'm here asking all of them.
She didn't know what was happening. This girl, this soft spoken, fearless girl was peeling her open without even trying. Amy wanted to throw her out, she wanted to pull her closer, she wanted to do both and neither and everything in between. You shouldn't be here, she whispered again, you keep saying that, because it's true. Then make me leave, Amy didn't move, Amy didn't speak, couldn't.
Ellie stepped forward, just a breath, you want me gone, she said, but you won't let me go.
Amy closed her eyes, that was the problem. I think you're the most dangerous person I've ever met, she said, because I remind you of someone? No, Amy said opening her eyes looking at her, really looking because you don't.