Reaching for her hand, I lead her over to the bed, gently tucking her into the soft cushions and the blanket before lying beside her. My muscles strain as I reach for something on thebedside table, and when I meet Naya’s eyes, her brows are furrowed, her head resting against the pillow.
“Where did you get that?”
A small, silver knife is in my hands, reflecting the faint light from the moonlight trickling through the curtains.
“I stole it from the reception area. It’s better than nothing,” I mutter, looking down at the makeshift weapon. It offers some sense of security, even if it’s not much.
She snuggles closer to my body, arms hugging my bare chest. A surge of warmth floods through me, removing all the remaining tension. Eventually, she sighs in contentment, soon followed by a yawn that has her arms losing their harder grip around me.
“Sleep, my little doll,” I whisper into her ear, and she closes her eyes as I kiss her forehead, breathing in her scent.
And so she falls asleep in my arms, a smile gracing her lips that I haven’t seen for weeks, maybe even months. Yet, the threat of the note lingers in the air, a harbinger of impending doom. It’s not the only concern weighing on us—this godforsaken town, with its haunting memories from my childhood, adds to the burden.
This is the lull before a devastating storm that will obliterate everything in its path.
––––––––
A MUTED, GRAY LIGHTfills the room as raindrops tap against the windowpanes, giving off a melancholic melody that serves as a reminder of the dreariness outside. The note clutched in my hand is shaking until I realize it’s because my hands are trembling. Not soft shivers—no. Violent tremors that make it hard to hold on to the note in my hands, wanting to tear it into pieces. But I can’t. It’s the only piece I have left ofhim.
I throw back my head in a silent, anguished gesture, causingthe pain to crack through my skull, yet it’s oddly welcome. I do it again, until it morphs into a throbbing sensation that forces my eyes shut.
I need to hurt, need to rid myself of these emotions crushing my chest from within. Soon, the weight will be all too heavy for my heart to handle, and it will be torn into millions of pieces impossible to ever glue together.
I don’t even notice the damning tears before one trickles down my cheek, leaving a wet stain on the paper, and I grab the note even harder while attempting to keep my hand from trembling.
A note from my brother—one I hadn’t seen or even noticed until now, a day after he left.
Our motel room is enveloped in an inky darkness that is punctuated by the glow of the digital clock on the bedside table, showing that it’s three in the morning. The neon sign on the other side of our building, across the parking lot, flickers red through the half-way drawn curtains, only amplifying the sense of eeriness that has settled over this motel.
I never fell asleep yesterday, and after hours of listening to Naya’s even breathing and observing her chest rising and falling, I got up from bed and chose to put on a T-shirt I know Daxton left in the backpack.
Then, at the bottom of the bag and in a pocket none of us had noticed, I felt the slightest bit of something sticking out.
It turned out to be a note from my brother, written in the same handwriting he had a few years ago when he foolishly left an “I miss you” letter for our parents, who later tore it to pieces before our eyes. My heart still clenches at the thought, nausea and anger threatening to overwhelm me. I throw back my head, hitting the wall behind me while gritting my teeth. The physical pain is better than the turmoil inside my haunted mind.
I stare at the note again, hands trembling ever-so-violently, reading the words once more.
“Grey,
I know I didn’t tell you goodbye. Truth be told, I didn’t have it in me to face the consequences of what I left behind or to see the misery in your eyes from something I caused. I’m supposed to do better,bebetter as your little brother. I know you believe I betrayed you, and in a way, I did. When you needed me most, I let them take you for my crimes.
I never wanted things to turn out this way.
I ran, letting you get locked up for what I committed, and then I escaped. But a month after I left, a man in a suit with black salt-and-pepper hair found me. They knew everything. They had evidence—evidence no one else had of how I committed the crimes. Surveillance footage.
To save both myself and you, I had to comply with their plan. I worked for them at the dollhouse as a supposed ‘doctor,’ hoping to keep you safe and alive. They promised they would never hurt you as long as I did what they wanted. I thought you’d be safe, serving your time at the hospital until your release. So I obeyed them until you showed up at the dollhouse. Imagine my shock when I realized the grim and brutal truth.
They fucking dared break my trust.
I know you believed I abandoned you, but there’s something I need you to do—something I heard whispers about during my time under their control. Uncover the connection between Frederick Grimhill and Emilio Ricci—only then might you find the closure you seek.
Truth is, I used to care for you, love you like a brother should, but they broke me down just like they did you. I can’t afford to care anymore. I’m not the same person as before.
I’m sorry for everything I did, for betraying you.
- Daxton
I read the note over and over, each word searing into my heart like a hot iron, leaving a trail of agony that burns worse thanhell.
