The sun had barely risen when I folded the last of my clothes into the small overnight bag. My hands shook, but I forced them steady. It wasn't forever, I told myself. Just a few nights back home. A little space to breathe, to remember who I was outside these walls.
But deep down, the truth twisted inside me. This house had started to feel like more than just Sophia's home, and leaving now felt like tearing away a piece of myself I wasn't ready to admit I wanted.
I paused at the doorway, my gaze sweeping over the quiet hall. The Donovans' house was still asleep with its silence heavy with secrets. I clutched the strap of my bag tighter.
"Just a few nights back home. I need to clear my mind from all this chaos," I whispered. But the words sounded hollow even to me.
-
I saw her.
From the shadows of the stairwell, I caught the flicker of movement, the way she hugged her bag close to her side as if afraid of being caught. My chest clenched. She was leaving, she is leaving this place.
Every instinct in me screamed to let her go, to respect her choice, to protect her from what my world could do to her, but another part of me, darker and more desperate, roared louder, "No, you can't let her slip away; you are going to regret this."
I stepped forward, my voice low but sharp enough to halt her steps. "Running away won't make it easier, Ellie."
She froze, her shoulders stiffening before she turned slowly. Her eyes widened at the sight of me, the morning light catching the rawness she'd tried to hide.
"This isn't your decision to make, Tristan," she said, her voice trembling but firm. "I need space. I need to remember who I am without all of this." She gestured around us, at the walls that held both warmth and shadows.
I moved closer, the weight of every unspoken word pressing between us. "You think leaving will keep you safe? It won't, Ellie. It'll only make it easier for me to lose you."
Her breath caught, and for a fleeting second, I thought I saw something shift in her eyes. The hope, the fear, and the longing, but then she shook her head.
"You don't get to decide if I stay or go," she said firmly.
The words struck like a blade, but I didn't flinch. Instead, I reached out, my hand hovering just shy of hers. "Then at least let me walk you home. I won't have you stepping out of this house alone."
Ellie's lips parted, torn between protest and the quiet comfort his offer brought. But before she could respond, the front door opened, and Edward Donovan's voice cut through the tension, deep and unreadable.
"Are you going somewhere, Ellie?"