Page 88 of Seeking Shadows

When he’s done, he drops her to the floor like she’s nothing, like she’s a discarded rag.

He turns to me, his eyes cold, venomous.

“If you are so noble, then give your body for hers.”

I don’t understand what he means, but the chill crawling over my skin tells me I don’t want to.

Then he leaves.

I run to my mother, my hands trembling as I try to shake her awake.

There’s blood. So much blood.

“Mo… Katie…” My voice cracks as I whisper her name, trying to pull her into me, but she’s limp, unresponsive.

I shake her harder, my desperation turning frantic.

“I love you, Katie, please don’t leave me…”

But she doesn’t answer.

Silence swallows everything.

I blink twice, trying to shake off the memory and force a smile at myself in the mirror, but everything feels wrong. My body feels distant, like it’s not even mine. My skin feels like plastic, my voice doesn’t sound like me—it’s strange, hollow, like I’m talking through a fog. My head is throbbing, the pressure behind my eyes like something is trying to push its way out. My chest feels tight, like I’m suffocating, but I don’t even know why.

I stare at my reflection, trying to ground myself, but it’s like I’m looking at a stranger. I wonder if this is what it means to bedisconnected. My thoughts are slipping away from me, like they’re swirling in different directions, and I can’t grab onto any of them.

I’m not sure if it’s the past pulling at me, or if it’s the constant fear gnawing at me from the inside out. My chest hurts so much, but it’s not from anything physical—it’s from the weight of the confusion, the doubt, the overwhelmingnothingnessthat follows me everywhere I go. I think about Katie, about Zane, and I tell myself they’re why I’m still here, why I keep trying. But then, the thought of them slips away too, like it’s too far to reach.

Maybe I can’t do this anymore.The thought crosses my mind, but then it’s gone, replaced by something else—something I can’t quite make sense of.

I wonder if everyone feels like this sometimes. But it doesn’t make it easier to deal with. I just want to knowwhat’s real. What’s left of me that’s real? Is it the pain? Is it Zane, keeping me here even when I feel so far gone? I don’t know anymore.

Maybe if I stay still, I won’t feel so… lost.But even when I try to freeze time, my thoughts keep moving, like a blur I can’t catch. The weight in my chest never stops. It’s like a constant reminder that I’m never truly okay, that I’m always hanging on by the thinnest of threads.

I take a deep breath, but it doesn’t help. The world is still spinning, and I’m stuck in the middle of it, trying to keep my feet on the ground, trying to pretend that I know what I’m doing.

I learned that day that I can’t call her mom anymore, so telling Zane what she is felt strange, like I hadn’t used that word in forever. It felt like I was talking about someone else, not my mom.

Smile, Mia. You have to.

They’re watching. Don’t let them see anything else, don’t let them see the cracks.

If they do, they’ll come after Katie, they’ll hurt her, and that’s something you can’t let happen.

I force myself to hold it together, pushing down the weight of everything inside.

The sadness, the confusion—it all has to stay buried. I swallow the lump in my throat and force my lips into a smile.

I can’t let them see how broken I feel, how close I am to crumbling. Because if they see it, if they sense the weakness, they won’t stop until they’ve taken everything from me. Katie. Zane. They’ll take it all.

So I smile.

I pull on a white dress today. It’s short, flared at the skirt, and it feels pretty—at least until I look down and see the marks on my shoulders. I leave them visible. I’m not scared of them. The dress is nice, but I hope I don’t end up ruining it. It’s too beautiful for that.

I head out and annoy Olga for a bit until I convince her to hang out with me. She doesn’t come around often. She’s not the social type, and I get it. I mean, I love people. I love talking and soaking up the outside world, but I don’t like being around people in that environment. No judgment.

I try calling Zane, but he doesn’t answer. I don’t press it. He’s probably busy pretending to be a mobster or something.

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