Page 67 of Shattered By Grace

As Adams stood to leave,Victoria replayed every conversation with Justin, every word now twisted through a different lens. The breadcrumbs had always been there. It hadn’t been a coincidence. He’d been guiding her, carefully, deliberately… all while pretending to protect her. And she let him.

“I’ll be in touch, Victoria,” Adams said, his voice steady.

She gave a quick nod as he turned and walked out the door.

Nothing and nowhere felt safe anymore. The walls of the coffee shop seemed to pulse with the echoes of Detective Adams’ words, his warnings reverberating in her mind. Victoria’s breath came in shallow, erratic gasps as she pushed through the door and stepped into the rain. The cold, biting downpour soaked through her clothes, but she barely noticed. Her thoughts were a violent storm, crashing into each other, leaving her with nothing but uncertainty.

Who could I trust, Justin or Detective Adams? Who’s lying to me?

Her footsteps quickened, her shoes splashing against the wet pavement, but she couldn’t seem to escape the fear that gripped her. She broke into a run, her heart pounding as hard as her feet on the pavement, her mind racing without direction. The rain was relentless, beating against her face, blurring her vision. She didn’t know where she was going; she just needed to move, to outrun the feeling of being hunted.

So she ran. She ran harder than she ever thought she could, the rain pelting her face, soaking through her clothes, and yet she welcomed it. The sting of each drop was a distraction from the fear gnawing at her insides. Her feet slapped against the slick pavement, and she pushed herself faster, trying to outrun the relentless panic clawing at her heart.

Her lungs burned with every breath, her muscles aching with exertion, but still, she kept going, driven by an instinct to flee, to get away from everything and everyone who could hurt her.

She stumbled to a stop, her legs growing weak and unsteady. Her breath came in ragged bursts as she sank down onto a nearby bench, trembling. She buried her face in her hands, the sting of tears mixing with the cold rain on her cheeks. The sobs came then, deep and guttural, each one stripping away a bit more of her composure.

Exhausted, she let herself crumble, her body shaking with each silent sob. The storm inside her raged as fiercely as the downpour, and for a moment, she allowed herself to drown in it.

When the sobs finally subsided, Victoria drew a shaky breath and wiped her face, blinking against the rain as she tried to regain her bearings. It was only then that she realized where she was. A few streets over, through the sheets of rain, she saw a familiar street sign. Cedar Lane. The name shot through her like an ice-cold spike.

You said you weren’t going to come back here.

A shudder rolled through her as the cold realization set in. But this, being back here, felt all wrong.Why does this feel so wrong?

Her heart hammered in her chest. She was only a short distance from the house, and as she stood there, her mind betrayed her. Bits and pieces of that night began to flood in, each memory crashing like an unstoppable tide.“You’re not going anywhere, little bird…”

Reliving that night in her nightmares had been unsettling enough, but seeing the house again…this house, so full of painful history,threatened to push her over the edge.

Frozen, rain-soaked, and trembling, she stared at the dark silhouette of the house looming against the stormy sky. Her breaths were shallow, pulse quickening as the memories unfurled. Each fragment was sharper, more menacing, pulling her back into that moment. She could almost hear the frantic footsteps, feel the icy grip of panic closing around her throat.

I shouldn’t be here.Every instinct screamed at her to turn around and run. But her feet stayed rooted to the ground, as if some unseen force held her in place. Torn between the desperate urge to flee and the need to confront the shadows that had haunted her for so long, she hesitated.

She hadn’t been back since that night, hadn’t dared to. But standing here now, so close, she felt a strange pull, a compulsion she couldn’t quite explain. Her feet moved almost of their own accord, carrying her down the street, closer and closer until she stood before it.

There it was. The house. Dark and empty, its windows like dead eyes staring back at her. The paint had peeled even more since the last time she’d seen it, and the front steps sagged with age. It looked smaller now,more fragile, as if it, too, had been dying since the night her father was taken from her.Doesn’t look like anyone’s lived here in years.

She swallowed hard, a wave of memories crashing over her. Her father’s laugh, his smile, the way he used to lift her onto his shoulders so she could reach the stars.

Victoria took a hesitant step toward the door, her hand trembling as it reached out.Why am I doing this?She didn’t have an answer. Maybe she needed to face it. To see it with her own eyes. To confront whatever ghosts still lingered in that place. Maybe she needed to feel close to him again, if only for a moment.

Her fingers brushed against the cold, weathered wood of the door. She paused, the rain falling in a steady hiss around her. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and pushed the door open.

It creaked loudly, echoing through the empty house like the groan of something long forgotten, waking up. Victoria stepped inside, her footsteps echoing on the bare floor. The air was thick with dust, and the smell of mildew clung to everything. But beneath it, she could still smell the faint, familiar scent of her father’s cologne.

Her heart pounded in her chest, fear and determination warring within her. She knew this was a terrible idea, but shehad to see. Had to feel the past reach out to touch her in this place where everything had changed.

As she stepped further inside, her eyes drifted to the staircase that led to the bedrooms and her father's old office. The hallway was darker than she remembered, littered with broken pieces of wood and debris. Holes pocked the floorboards and walls, as if the house itself had been wounded.

Her foot touched the first step, and a shiver ran through her. Each creak of the old wood was a whisper of the past, pulling her deeper into the memory.

"Get over here, girl..."A deep, menacing growl echoed in her mind.

She gripped the banister, her knuckles white, forcing herself to take another step. Another memory flashed before her eyes.“You’re lucky, little bird,”Razer’s voice whispered, dripping with malice.

She moved further inside, and the door swung shut behind her with a soft, deliberate click. The sound jolted her, sealing her in with the shadows and the ghosts of a life she could never quite escape.

Inside, the house was a far cry from the beautiful, historical home it once had been. The woodwork, once grand, was now dull and chipped, intricate carvings barely visible beneath layers of grime. The wallpaper had peeled away in places, revealing cracked plaster underneath. The air was thick with the musty scent of rot, as if the house itself had begun to die along with everything inside it.

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