Page 106 of Fractured Devotion
But tonight, I fall asleep, not afraid. Not entirely.
And that, finally, is enough.
Chapter 34 – Celeste - Heretic’s Touch
The sunlight creeps in through the edge of the blinds as I wake to the faint creak of the couch from the living room, where Kade is still asleep. His breathing is steady, distant yet grounding, like the faint hum of something too large to name, his arm slung over the edge of the couch like a soldier half in battle. I don’t move right away.
I sit in that moment, warm and suspended, as if the weight of the previous day might not crash down again. But it does. In silence, I rise, dress, and gently nudge him awake.
We step out into the chill morning together, walking side by side with a silence that isn’t heavy, just necessary. When we reach the building that houses his apartment, tucked between a grocery store and an old bookstore, he pauses.
“You should see my place,” he says. “Just in case you ever need… something.”
I hesitate, then nod. He lets me in.
The interior surprises me. It’s sparse and neat, but lived in. A stark contrast to the sterile chaos I’ve let define my own spaces.
I don’t ask questions, and he doesn’t offer answers. We exist in mutual discretion.
After a long minute, I thank him and leave, slipping down the corridor and back toward the clinic.
By the time I reach the clinic, the day has already begun to stretch its arms. Mara glances up at me in the hallway, her eyes wide but unreadable. Alec corners me before lunch, his eyes sharp.
“You know Harper didn’t jump,” he says.
I don’t respond. I just look at him.
The day crawls, staff whisper, and shadows stretch.
And when I finally return to the clinic’s upper floor and the hall that leads to my backup apartment, the stillness there feels heavier than it should.
I unlock the door, step inside, and shut it behind me like sealing myself inside a tomb. The air is cold.
My clothes still hang neatly in the wardrobe, and my notes remain stacked precisely where I left them. It’s as if this space waited for me to fall apart.
I sit on the edge of the bed, pressing my palms into the mattress. I can still hear the echo of Kade’s voice from yesterday, when he promised not to let them get to me. I wonder if he truly meant that.
I try to breathe. I try to make the silence behave.
But Harper’s face won’t leave me. The look in her eyes before everything unraveled, and the way she moved, like she was holding a secret that might eat her alive.
And then, worse, my mind flips without warning.
I’m six again.
I’m back in that too-blue bedroom with the peeling wallpaper. My mother is singing a lullaby from the kitchen, and I’m in the closet with my knees pulled to my chest. The closet door is cracked just enough for me to see the shadows dance on the floor. Then a scream and a crash. Her perfume. And the scent of blood.
And also, the man’s voice, thick and too calm, when he says, “You made me do it.”
I jolt out of it, my breath shuddering, my chest burning.
I can’t stay here.
I grab my coat, don’t bother with my bag, and walk straight out. My heels strike the tiles too hard, and my steps echo down the stairwell. I don’t care. I just need air. I need to be somewhere that isn’t this—the ghost of who I used to be and everything I wish I could forget.
I don’t know what I’m doing when I knock on Kade’s door.
Three soft taps.
