Page 156 of Traitor

I haven't gone back to my room since the night she ran from it like I was the fucking plague. Can't bring myself to step inside, to look at the bed where I held her, where — for a brief moment — I had her in my arms again. I crash on the couch in my office instead, barely sleeping, just existing in the silence.

She'll always be in my heart. Even after death. But I finally understand now — I stopped being in hers four years ago.

I just had to watch her break to see it.

Temper

The fire crackles in front of me, flames licking at the night air, turning paper into ashes, erasing the fucking eulogy I wrote for myself.For her.The girl I used to be. And I didn't have anything else from back then to burn during this cremation of my past self. So I wrote an eulogy.

For this funeral.

Ria's idea, of course.

She stands beside me, arms crossed, face serious, like she's attending a real funeral. Layla is next to her, silent but steady. And on the other side of me?Adora.

Fucking surreal.

Ria made this happen. Ria made everything happen.

Adora is here because of her. I can't lie. I like her. I really do. There's something inside her, something wounded that calls to me. We sat and talked, and when she told me her story, it was like she put a mirror in front of my face. I saw myself, the woman who chased revenge until there was nothing left to chase. Until she was just standing there, staring at the wreckage, realizing that revenge doesn't rebuild you. I got lost in my own anger. But hearing her speak, watching the way she carried her pain, drove the point home. I see the scars Ghost left on her heart, and I wonder...

Did I do the same to Bones?

It's been two weeks since I ran from his room in the middle of the night, like a coward, like a criminal fleeing the scene of the crime. Tears in my eyes, confusion in my chest, a war raging inside me that I didn't know how to fight. I went home, and Ria was waiting for me.

She didn't say anything. Just looked at me. Worried. Expecting answers. And I felt like absolute shit. Because when I fell apart, I didn't run to her. I ran to Bones.

She understood. But understanding didn't mean she let me wallow. After a week of sleeping, crying, and barely eating, she forced me to talk. And I did. About everything. Not just what I did to Jinx, but what happened with Bones after. How it felt. How it didn't feel. How I didn't understand.

It was the most intense therapy session I've ever had.

I told her about Dr. Monroe. About how she said I never got to grieve what I lost. Not just four years ago, but even before, when Jinx took me for the first time.

Ria listened. For hours.

And then she simply declared, "Maybe you should just hold a funeral for yourself."

Like those dramatic women in movies who hold funerals for their relationships, except this was for who I used to be.

And then Layla came back from her trip and I met Adora and they also liked the idea. They both held their own funerals first, each picking a night, burning their pasts to make room for something new.

Tonight is my turn.

And I can't lie. I was skeptical.

But standing here, watching the fire eat away at the words I wrote, at the goodbye I never let myself have, something inside me shifts. It feels... lighter. Like the last string still tying me to those memories is finally snapping.

Now if only I could move and throw the last piece of my past into the fire, too. But my arms refuse to release the leather that I'm tightly clutching to my chest.

"Tempe," Ria's voice is gentle but firm. "Throw the cut into the fire."

I tighten my grip. "But... but it's not really mine," I whisper. Excuses. Bullshit. "I stole it from Bones' room. It's... it's not nice to destroy other people's property."

Ria's eyes narrow. "It's your property. It became yours when he gave it to you. It doesn't matter that it was with him all these years. It's still yours to do whatever the hell you want with it."

Fuck. Why does she have to make sense?

My shoulders drop. My head bows. My voice comes out small. Weak.

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