Page 14 of Into the Light

It took me a minute to find the perfect outfit in my closet. I wanted something that felt comfortable, but also knew if I was going to one of these parties, I would need to blend in, so I grabbed one of the skimpy dresses I had borrowed from Maddy’s closet, but it didn’t feel like anything I wanted to wear right now. I glanced down at my ratty ass, comfortable sweats.

“Fuck that,” I grumbled as soon as I heard a knock on my door. “Marissa?” I shouted from the hallway. Something sounded off. She had just left with Pico, and by the way they were all over each other, I assumed they wouldn’t come back immediately.

I made my way over to the door and looked in the peephole, but found nothing. I shrugged it off, and then the knock happened again, so I rushed back to the peep hole but still found nothing.

My heart racing, the knocking sounded again, more insistent this time, but the peephole still showed no one. Doubt and anxiety gnawed at me, making me question my sanity. I couldn’t ignore my gut feeling.

In a hurry, I dialed Santiago’s number, my voice laced with concern when he picked up. “Someone is at my door. I don’t know—” A door was slammed open in the hallway.

Santiago’s voice took on a serious tone. “Stay inside. I’m coming.”

I hung up and stepped away from the door, my heart pounding in my chest. The inexplicable knocking and the subsequent commotion in the hallway sent shivers down my spine, leaving me with a sense of impending danger I couldn’t shake. The seconds felt like hours, and I was on the verge of panic. My mind raced with a thousand questions and scenarios, none of which made any sense.

Just as I was about to call Santiago back, my heartbeat intensified with a sudden rush of adrenaline. I could hear the struggle but could see nothing through the peephole.

My trembling hand hovered over the phone, torn between calling for help or staying hidden. Then the struggle subsided, replaced by a hushed conversation. Curiosity and fear swirled within me as I strained to hear what was being said.

I opened the door and saw Santiago with a female clutched to his chest, a gun pointed at her head.

“Get inside,” he demanded. Just as I was about to close the door again, I realized I recognized the girl in his arms. It was . . .

“Beatrice.” She was disheveled and bewildered. A shriek escaped my lips, a mixture of terror and relief as I recognized her.

Although I wouldn’t have considered her close, I assumed she would have reached out since we socialized a few times and she’d been there the night Ale kidnapped me.

“Santiago, stop. It’s Beatrice,” I shouted, my voice echoing in the corridor. “I know her.”

He released his grip, and they stood up, panting and bewildered. Santiago looked at me, his eyes wide and his cheeks pink. “I’m . . . sorry” he stammered.

Beatrice hurried over, her brows furrowed and her eyes darting around the scene. “W-what’s happening here?” she asked, her voice tinged with uncertainty and a hint of fear, her hands fidgeting at her sides.

My emotions swirled—relief, anger, and an overwhelming need for answers. I turned to Beatrice, demanding, “Why were you incessantly knocking on my door and then leaving without a word? You scared me half to death.”

“I was coming to apologize. I didn’t mean to scare you. I was just coming to tell you that I was sorry, but then I got scared, so I turned to leave.”

Santiago had let her go, and she gripped her neck where he’d had her in a chokehold. She was doubled over, her breath ragged.

“Who is that?” She turned to Santiago, whose face was blank as he stood tall in the hallway.

“Santiago, my bodyguard.” I introduced. “Because of all the hate I’ve been getting on campus, he needed to come for my safety.”

Beatrice winced, then took a hesitant step toward me.

“I came here to apologize. Do you think I could come in?”

I looked back at my empty apartment, then toward her and shook my head. “No,” I said. She never once reached out to me in the last eight months to acknowledge my feelings or emotions. And unlike Maddy who outwardly spoke of her hate for me, her quiet disregard of what I was going through was just as bad.

“Oh, okay . . .” She shoved her hands into her pockets, looking down. “I just wanted to say sorry for what happened—”

I held up my hand. “I don’t need an apology from you. I needed support when my boyfriend was no longer here, Beatrice. I don’t wish you any ill will or harm, but honestly, you need to leave.”

I was pissed off. The anger bubbling beneath the surface only fueled the need to see Rain.

Beatrice stepped back, her eyes heavy with guilt. “I understand, but I genuinely am sorry. I should’ve been there for you, and I wasn’t. I have no excuses. I listened too much to the gossip. You deserve more than an apology, but I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me someday.”

My emotions were a tangled mess as I locked eyes with her. Part of me longed to hear her apology, and another part resented her for not being there when I needed her most. It was a battle that left me conflicted.

“I’ll think about it,” I said, my voice softer. “But for now, I need space.”

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