Page 111 of Picture Perfect

Ishould be surprised that I’m back here again. But, nothing could keep me away from this girl. Chess and I stand concealed beneath the shroud of night. Seriously, there are no streetlights out here at all. They seem so concerned with the security of their fortress, but you can't see shit out here.

My gaze is locked on the second-floor window where Snowflake's silhouette should be. It's not.

She was at school today, but not really. She’s still walking around, a shell of her former self. She won’t look at us. Won’t talk to us. Won’t smile in a way that reaches her eyes and I can’t fucking take it anymore.

"Man, this is messed up," Chess mutters beside me, shifting his weight from foot to foot, unease etched into his dark features. "We've been out here for hours. Why don't we just go in and check on her?"

"Shut it, Chess," I snap, my voice barely a growl. My fingers fidget with the hem of my jacket, restlessness clawing at my insides. The paranoia won't let go; it digs its claws deeper with every passing second. Addy's hiding something—something big—I can feel it in my bones.

If I can’t drag it from her lips, then I’ll just have to suss it out myself. It’s not like I’d be spending this time sleeping anyway. I haven’t slept a fucking wink since she shut down on us. Well, I had actually slept beside her last night. That says a whole lot about the hold this girl has on me.

"Look at her window, Dre. It's shut tight again." Chess points toward the opaque glass pane lined with a thick curtain that separates us from Addy's world—a barrier she's been meticulous about lately. Now that she knows we’re watching, she’s more careful about what we can see.

"Doesn't matter," I say, dismissing his observation with a shake of my head. Every evening, I'm tempted to climb up to her room, just to ensure she's safe, to quell the gnawing concern. But no, sneaking glances from the shadows won't unravel the tangled web I know she's trapped in.

"Then what? We gonna stand here like a couple of creeps all night?" There's a hint of challenge in Chess's tone, but I know it's laced with worry—not for our reputations, but for her.

"Something's not right." The words slip from my lips, a mantra that's become too familiar. "Why's her door got a lock on the outside, huh? And why didn't she eat properly until Saint started to feed her?"

Chess falls silent, and I know he's pieced it together just as easily as I have. I know he knows something isn’t right. What I don’t know is why he’s not working harder to uproot those secrets.

"Alright, so what's the play?" Chess finally asks, his hazel eyes meeting mine.

"We watch. We wait." My voice is resolute even if my plan is anything but. "We need answers, Chess. And we're going to get them."

The dim glow from Addy's window fractures as a shadow passes behind the curtain. Then, the curtains part and a face—William's face—peeks out. A jolt of adrenaline ignites my veins like gasoline to flame. I'm moving before I realize, my feet tearing across the dew-kissed lawn with the reckless abandon of a storm.

"Draven, wait!" Chess's voice is a distant whisper drowned out by the thundering of my own heart.

I can't—I won't stop. The sight of him there, in her room, it's like a red flag to a bull, and I am all horns and hooves, barreling toward the danger that I've sworn to shield her from.

"Snowflake!" My voice is raw as I burst through her window, the curtains giving way under the force of my shoulder.

She scrambles back against her bed, green eyes wide with terror, her blonde hair a wild halo around her head in the moonlight streaming through the window.

"What the hell was he doing here?" The words are a snarl, ripping from the depths of my chest, each syllable laced with an edge of insanity.

"Dre, please." Her voice is a thin thread of fear, barely audible over the hammering pulse in my ears.

"Tell me!" I demand, closing the distance between us in two long strides. The desperation in my voice scares even me—it's the sound of someone teetering on the brink.

"Nothing—he was just—"

"Nothing? At this hour?" I spit back, my mind racing with unspeakable thoughts. Every muscle in my body coils tight, ready to strike out at the unseen monsters I imagine lurking in every corner of her life.

"Please," she pleads, her eyes shimmering pools reflecting back my own distorted reflection.

"Please?" I echo, the words hollow. "Absolutely fucking not. I have been patient, Snowflake. But you are going to tell me with the fuck is going on here."

"Dre," she whispers, and something about the way she says my name, vulnerable and broken, almost breaks me.

But I'm made of harder stuff than that. I have to be—for her.

The window groans under Chess's weight as he eases himself into the dimly lit room, his silhouette a dark smudge against the faint moonlight. Snowflake's gaze flickers to him, and in that brief moment of distraction, I reach out, my fingers clamping onto her chin with a firmness that brooks no argument.

"Look at me, Snowflake," I command, forcing her attention back. The ice in my veins reflects in my eyes, a storm brewing behind the frost. "Don't look away from me."

"Dre, you're hurting me," she whispers, her voice quivering like the last leaf clinging to a winter branch.

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