Page 179 of BounBound By Scars

She called my name, soft, startled.

I didn’t stop. Didn’t look back.

The air in the lounge was still thick—chaos layered over silence. The kind of silence that’s louder than a scream. The kind of silence where ghosts still linger.

Hisghost.

I walked down the hallway, each step heavier than the last. My limbs felt like stone, my chest like it had caved in.

Kabir was dead.

Fine.

Then Dylan deserved to know, didn’t he?

Wasn’t that what he’d wanted?

I found his door. A number plaque that suddenly made my stomach turn.

My hand curled into a fist.

I banged.

No answer.

I banged again, harder this time. My vision blurred, but I wouldn’t let the tears fall yet.

Later.

Yes.

Later I’d collapse.

Right now, I just wanted to see his face when I told him.

That he pulled the trigger.

And Kabir never came back from it.

I raised my fist to slam the door again when a trembling voice stopped me.

“Miss Desmond?”

I turned, teeth clenched.

Greta, the receptionist. Timid. Wide-eyed.

“Is—everything alright?”

“No,” I snapped. “Open this fucking door.”

“I—I don’t have access—”

“Open it.”

She stared at me, startled, then scrambled off down the hallway. Thirty seconds later she returned, fumbling with the master key in her shaking hand.

I snatched it before she could say anything else, jammed it into the lock, and flung the door open.

---