Page 166 of Red Zone
“And you,” he says quieter now, stepping closer. “You sit here defending her, acting like you’re not the same damn way. Scared. Running. Pretending like you don’t feel it too.”
The air leaves my lungs in one shaky breath.
“Don’t,” I whisper, my arms tightening over my chest.
But he doesn’t back off. His gaze softens just enough to make it worse.
“You’re scared too, Lyla,” he murmurs, like it’s a truth I can’t undo.
I swallow hard and force myself to look away, gripping the edge of my sleeve until my knuckles ache.
“You don’t know me,” I say, low and brittle.
But his faint smirk says otherwise.
“Yeah,” he says quietly, almost to himself as he steps back. “I think I do.”
And then he walks off, leaving me standing alone outside the door, my pulse still hammering, my throat too tight to breathe.
I stay outside for a moment after he’s gone, staring down the walkway where he disappeared, the faint sound of his footsteps fading into nothing.
His words still buzz in my head, sharp and soft all at once.
You’re scared too.
I bite the inside of my cheek, willing my heartbeat to slow, willing my face to smooth back into something neutral before I go back inside.
When I finally open the door and step back into the quiet apartment, Madison hasn’t moved.
She’s still curled up on the couch, staring at the muted TV, as if nothing happened.
I shut the door softly behind me, letting my eyes drift to the kitchen. The counters are already spotless, gleaming under the dim light.
But even from here, I can see a faint streak on the stainless steel fridge.
My fingers twitch at my side.
The knot in my chest tightens.
And all I can think is?—
The kitchen could use another round of cleaning.
Winter term classes start tomorrow, and my backpack is already packed, sitting by the door back at my apartment. I thoughtgetting back into a routine might settle me—give me something to focus on besides Carter’s words and the way Madison still hasn’t really been a functioning human lately.
But instead of going home after my morning errands, I find myself here.
In front of my dad’s house.
It’s strange how different it looks now—fresh white paint, a new door with frosted glass, even a wreath for winter. The house I grew up in never looked like this.
I force my shoulders back and knock anyway.
He answers in a sweater and jeans; his reading glasses perched on top of his head. He smiles when he sees me, warm and familiar. “Hey, kid. Wasn’t expecting you.”
I shrug faintly. “Had some extra time. Thought I’d stop by.”
“Well, come on in. Don’t freeze out there.”
