She took the cup with trembling hands, managing a few sips before sinking back into the pillows. Her throat burned, but the cool water soothed her enough to try speaking again.
“How long?” Her voice was barely above a whisper.
“Three days,” Augustus replied softly, his gaze flickering to her face, then away, like he was afraid to look her in the eye. “You’ve been out for three days, Lilia. We thought—God I thought . . . ” His voice trailed off, and he swallowed hard, as though the thought of finishing that sentence was too painful. “I almost lost you, baby.”
Lilia squeezed her eyes shut, the weight of everything crashing down on her. Three days. The sirens—the ones she heard just before passing out—they must have reached her just in time. She had been so close to losing everything. Her entire body trembled with the memory of Jameson’s touch, his voice, his madness.
She could still hear his words echoing in her mind. The way he talked about Willow—the way he talked about her—sent a chill down her spine. Her stomach twisted in knots, a wave of nausea rising in her throat.
“Jameson . . . ” she rasped, forcing her eyes open again, even though her lids felt so heavy. “Where is he?”
Augustus’ jaw clenched, and his expression darkened. “Jail.”
Lilia stared at him, her mind spinning.
“He tried to run when the police showed up,” Augustus said, his voice tight with emotion. “They caught him near the train station—he pulled a gun. They shot him in the shoulder.”
Relief flooded through her, but it was quickly followed by a profound sense of sorrow. It was over—Jameson was in jail—but nothing felt right. There was no sense of justice or victory, only emptiness. Willow was still dead. McCall was gone. And all the questions that had haunted her, the things that didn’t make sense, still hung in the air, unresolved.
She closed her eyes again, her breath hitching in her throat. She wanted to cry but found herself too exhausted even for that. The weight of everything was too much. Every moment from the past few months piled on top of her, suffocating her. She had no energy left to fight it.
“Lilia,” Augustus said softly, his hand reaching for hers. “We’re safe now. He can’t hurt you anymore.”
His words felt hollow, even though he meant them. The physical threat might be over, but the scars—those would last. Lilia wasn’t sure she would ever feel safe again.
“Where’s Delilah? Eleanor? Sebastian?” she asked, her voice still weak but a bit steadier now.
“They’re okay,” Augustus reassured her. “They’ve been here, waiting. We all have. They just stepped out for some food.”
Lilia nodded slowly, the weight of her exhaustion dragging her down again. She wanted to see them, to hear their voices and feel their presence. But right now, she could barely keep her eyes open.
“Sleep,” Augustus urged, his hand still wrapped around hers. “We’ll be here when you wake up.”
She wanted to protest, to ask more questions, to understand everything that had happened while she had been unconscious. But her body had other plans, and before she knew it, the darkness was pulling her under once again.
As she drifted off, the last thing she heard was the soft hum of the machines beside her bed, and the warmth of Augustus’ hand, anchoring her to this world even as her mind slipped away into oblivion.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
December 12th, 2022
Mills Creek Cemetery
The cemetery was cloaked in a damp, cold mist as the group gathered around Willow Montgomery’s grave. The late afternoon sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows over the crumbling tombstones. Dead leaves crunched beneath their feet, the air thick with the weight of the finality.
Lilia stood at the head of the group, her fingers tightly gripping the stem of the white rose in her hand. She couldn’t be sure if she was shaking because of the cold or because of the moment they were about to face—saying goodbye to Willow, once and for all. This was the end of it, their last chance to free themselves from her grasp.
She swallowed, looking at the others. Delilah’s face was set in a hard line, eyes distant as if she’d already started emotionally detaching. Augustus stood to the side, his shoulders tense, hands buried deep in his coat pockets. Sebastian paced slightly, restless energy radiating off him in the way it always did whenhe didn’t know what to do with his emotions. Eleanor stood silently, her gaze fixed on the grave, the wind tousling her hair.
They had all been bound by Willow’s choices. They had been tangled in her web, but this was it. This was their final goodbye.
Sebastian was the first to break the silence, stepping forward and crouching slightly to drop his rose on her grave. “God, you were a bitch, Montgomery,” he started, voice bitter but tinged with sadness. “You had us all wrapped around your finger, made us into people we didn’t even recognize.” His voice cracked slightly, and he rubbed a hand over his face. “But I hope you’re finally at peace. Maybe wherever you are now, you’re not that person anymore.”
He stood, his eyes lingering on the grave for a moment before he took a step back.
Delilah approached next. She knelt by the grave, he fingers trembling as she laid her rose gently beside Sebastian’s. “I don’t know what to say to you, Willow,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “You made me question everything—my friends, myself. You dragged us all down and for what? But I’m not angry anymore. If anything, I think I pity you.” She stood slowly. “I hope you find peace, but I won’t let you haunt me anymore.”
Augustus shifted, his jaw clenched. He didn’t say anything at first, just stared down at the grave. Finally, he pulled a rose from his pocket, spinning it between his fingers. “I loved you, you know thar?” His voice was barely a murmur. “Even when I knew you were lying, even when you hurt me. I still loved you.” He shook his head, the tension in his voice breaking as he tossed the rose onto the grave. “But it wasn’t worth it, any of it. I let you control so much of my life. You weren’t worth this.” He turned away quickly, wiping his eyes as he moved to join the others.
