Page 123 of When the Storm Breaks
Something about Hannah making the connection so easily doesn’t sit right with me.
Like I’ve stepped too close to something dangerous.
Like I’m feeling too much.
Her voice drops, barely above a whisper. “I heard about that. My sister was at the party that night—she saw Willow right before. It’s so sad.”
I freeze.
My thoughts collide in a chaotic, dizzying mess.
The walls I thought were strong enough to keep the worst of it out begin to crack. Then crumble.
Images slam into me, one after another—Haiyden’s face when he shut off the burner that night. The way his shoulders tensed as he watched the flame die. The fear in his eyes at the lake, standing at the water’s edge like something unseen was bound to pull him under.
Each memory is another stone hurled at my breaking walls, and I’m powerless to stop it. Powerless to do anything but watch.
I shift uncomfortably as the knot in my stomach twists tighter. I need to say something. Acknowledge it.
But before I can unravel, before I can find the words, I see her.
Madelyn.
She strides toward us, fire in her eyes, her expression controlled but razor-sharp. When she speaks, there’s a cool politeness to her tone,but I don’t miss the ice beneath it.
“Thanks for coming in. Can I steal you for a minute?”
I nod, falling into step behind her.
Madelyn’s office is small. Quiet. The kind of quiet that hums in your ears, making the space feel smaller.
She starts talking, but the words barely register. Everything feels distant, muffled—like I’m underwater, kicking to stay afloat.
“I’m going to be honest. We haven’t received anything from you in weeks. If you want to continue your contract, we need to get you back on track.”
I curl my fingers around the edge of the chair, gripping tight—trying to ground myself in something solid.
I know. I know.
The words sit on my tongue, but I hold them back.
Let them rot there.
“I understand.” My voice is soft, strained around the lump in my throat. “I’m sorry. I’ll get caught up.”
“Good.” Madelyn exhales, looking me over. “I don’t want to be the bad guy, Calla. Honestly. But I need to know you’re still serious about this.”
“I am.”
The words leave me too quickly, an automatic response, but she seems satisfied enough.
She stands, signaling the conversation is over. “See you soon.”
I step out of her office, forcing a weak smile as I catch Hannah’s gaze.
“I’ll be back.”
I can feel her watching me as I go—waiting, maybe hoping I’llsay more, but I don’t look back.
