Page 26 of Push My Buttons
I’ve spent so long building walls high enough to keep everyone out and low enough that I could still climb over them when it was time to run.
But sitting here—shaking, hollowed out, so fucking tired—I don’t want to run again. I don’t want to carry it all alone anymore.
So I break my rule.
I take a deep breath and type:My name is Lilliana Cain. Lucien Cain is my brother.
Maya stares at me, confusion giving way to shock as recognition dawns. "The serial killer? The one they just arrested?"
I nod, tears burning behind my eyes.
"Holy shit," she whispers. "Holyshit, Wren."
For a terrible moment, I think she's going to ask me to leave. Instead, she wraps her arms around me, pulling me into a fierce hug.
"I'm so sorry," she murmurs against my hair. "That must be... I can't even imagine."
Something breaks inside me then—some final wall I've been desperately maintaining. I clutch at her shirt and let the tears come, silent sobs shaking my body as she holds me.
When I finally pull back, my face is wet and my throat aches with the phantom pain of screams I can't release. Maya hands me a tissue, her eyes full of questions but patient enough not to ask them all at once.
I wipe my face and reach for my phone again, but Maya stops me.
"Let's use my laptop," she suggests. "Easier to type."
She brings her computer and sits cross-legged on the couch, angling the screen so we can both see it. I place my hands on the keyboard and take a deep breath.
I need to tell you everything, I type.But it's a lot. And once you know, you can't unknow it.
"I'm not going anywhere," she says firmly. "Whatever it is, we'll figure it out."
So I tell her. Everything.
The dam breaks, and everything spills out—not just today's terror but all of the secrets I've kept locked away. My hands fly across the keyboard as I bare myself to her in the hopes she will still want to be my friend once it’s all out. I tell her all about my connection to the monster whose capture was just splashed across every news channel in the country.
I tell her about my voice—about waking in the hospital after almost dying and how it disappeared after that night, how the doctors found no physical reason for my silence, how the trauma locked my words away where even I can't find them. I tell her about running, changing my name, dyeing my hair, erasing every trace of the girl I used to be.
And then I tell her about Vanta. About the masked cam girl who performs in silence for strangers online. About how those tips pay my rent and buy my groceries when barista wages barely cover utilities. About how even there, in that carefully constructed fantasy, someone has found me. How someonehas been stalking me, sending messages, leaving gifts and now violated my home.
Through it all, Maya sits perfectly still, her expression shifting from shock to horror to something that looks dangerously close to pity.
When I finally stop, pushing the computer back toward her, my hands aching and my shoulders slumped with exhaustion. The silence between us feels vast and unbridgeable.
"Say something,"I sign, the movement small and uncertain.
Maya's eyes are soft, full of a kindness I'm not sure I deserve. "First of all, I'm not going anywhere," she says firmly. "And second, holy shit, Wren. That's... a lot."
I almost laugh at the understatement. My hands shape the words:"I understand if it's too much."
"Stop," she says, grabbing my hands. "Don't you dare push me away now. Not after all that."
Relief floods through me so intensely I nearly collapse. She pulls me into another hug, and this time I let myself sink into it completely, my body going limp against hers.
"You can stay here as long as you need," she murmurs. "We'll figure this out together."
But even as I nod against her shoulder, a cold realization is forming in my gut. By coming here, I've done exactly what I swore I'd never do—I've put someone I care about in danger.
Chapter 9
