Page 15 of Reckless Royalty

I nod once, then step out of the room, closing the door behind me. As I walk down the hallway, my chest feels tight, like I’m carrying the weight of her pain along with my own.

Sofia. Madison. Two women tied to the same nightmare, and I’m caught in the middle.

MADDY

Ilie on the bed, staring at the ceiling, my mind running in circles that I can’t escape. The room is quiet, the kind of stillness that feels suffocating.

I haven’t left since I got here yesterday, not even to eat. Not that I could stomach food right now. It’s like there’s this emptiness inside me, and no matter what I do, I can’t fill it.

Everything keeps replaying in my head: Sofia’s slap, the gunshots, the restaurant. The way my mother’s hand slipped from mine, the scream that came from my sister before everything went dark. It plays on repeat, and I wonder what the point of all of this is.

Why am I still here? Why should I be alive when they’re not?

I swallow hard, feeling that familiar tightness in my chest, the one that never seems to go away. The one that screams:you should’ve made a different choice. Maybe then, they’d still be alive.

The spiral is starting again, pulling me down into that pit where all the guilt and grief live, but before I can sink too far, there’s a knock on my door. It’s soft and tentative, like whoever’s on the other side isn’t sure if they should be interrupting.

For a second, I consider ignoring it. Pretending I’m not here, not in this room, not in this life. But then the knock comes again, just as gentle and I realize I can’t stay like this forever.

I force myself to sit up, my legs heavy as I throw on my fluffy nightgown and move to the door. When I open it, I’m surprised to see Cat standing there, looking small and unsure. She’s got a tray in her hands with what looks like a sandwich and a cup of tea.

“Hey,” she says softly, her voice barely above a whisper. She’s like a bird—small and fragile, but there’s a kindness in her eyes that I can’t look away from. “I, um… I brought you something to eat. The guards said you didn’t come down at all today, so… I thought I’d check on you.”

I stare at her for a second, not sure what to do. She’s being so… gentle. There’s no force, no pressure. Simply a quiet kindness that catches me off guard.

She hesitates, biting her lip before holding out the tray. “I don’t know if you’re hungry, but… it’s here if you want it.”

I take the tray from her, my hands trembling slightly. I don’t know why, but it makes me feel oddly at ease. It feels like she’s the first person to truly see me for who I am beneath the girl who everyone else sees: the one who witnessed a murder, the one who is the key to some bigger plan.

She just sees… me.

“Can I come in?” she asks, her voice still soft as if she’s afraid of breaking the silence that hangs between us.

I nod, stepping aside to let her in. She walks over to the small table near the window and sits down, her hands folded neatly in her lap. I sit across from her, still holding the tray, but I don’t touch the food. It feels too strange, too much like an offering I don’t deserve.

Cat fidgets with the hem of her sweater, glancing up at me occasionally like she’s unsure what to say. Finally, she reachesinto her handbag and pulls out a box, setting it on the table in front of me.

“I noticed… you didn’t have a phone,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper. “So I thought… you’d like one. You don’t have to use it, but… if you want to, you can.”

I blink, staring at the box in front of me. A phone. Something so simple, so normal, but it feels like a lifeline being thrown into the chaos that’s been my world for the past few days. I don’t know what to say, or how to thank her. I don’t even know if I can.

“I wrote my number and the WiFi password down,” she continues, pulling a small piece of paper from her pocket and sliding it across the table. “If you ever want to text me. You don’t have to, but… I’m here.”

Her words hit me in a way I wasn’t expecting. I’ve felt alone for so long now—ever since that night—and the idea that someone is reaching out to me without any expectations, without any pressure is… overwhelming.

I manage a small, watery smile, the first real one I’ve had in what seems like forever. It’s not much, but it’s enough for Cat to notice. Her face brightens slightly, and she gives me a soft smile in return.

“You’ve been through a lot,” she says gently, her green eyes filled with understanding. “But… you don’t have to go through it alone. If you ever need someone to sit with you, just want to be quiet together… I’m here. I know what it feels like to have so much to say, but it all gets stuck.”

I nod, my throat tightening with emotion. If I could speak, I’d tell her how much this means to me. How much it matters that someone is being kind to me without forcing me to be anything other than what I am right now—a mess.

She stands up after a moment, brushing her hands on her jeans before giving me another soft smile.

“I should go. But… I’ll be around. Don’t hesitate to text me, okay?”

I nod again, and she turns to leave, her steps light as she heads toward the door. Before she walks out, she pauses and glances back at me.

“I’m sorry you’re going through this, I really am.”

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