Page 93 of The Rules
Her sister sat at a café, headphones in, smiling at something on her laptop screen. Oblivious. Unaware that someone was watching. Photographing.
One line was written beneath the image in neat, deliberate handwriting:
"You should be more careful about the people you care about. ♥"
Kath's stomach turned violently. Vision blurred, the edges of the room going dark as panic clawed its way up her throat.
This wasn't just about her anymore. This was Lisa. Baby sister. The one person she'd sworn to protect above all else.
She fumbled for her phone, fingers shaking so badly she could barely unlock the screen. Pressed Lisa's contact, nearly dropping the device while raising it to her ear.
Lisa picked up on the third ring, voice bright. Normal. Safe.
"Kath? What's up?"
Kath's voice came out paper-thin, forced into a steadiness she didn’t feel. "Hey. Just... make sure the doors are locked, okay?"
There was a pause on the other end. Concern crept into Lisa's voice. "Why?"
Kath forced a laugh that felt like broken glass in her throat. "No reason. Break-ins. Nothing serious."
She was lying through her teeth, the words bitter on her tongue. But she'd say anything, do anything, to protect the one person she couldn’t lose.
"I'm fine," Lisa assured. "Everything's locked. I'll double-check."
Kath nodded, though Lisa couldn't see. She remained silent, still shaking.
"Just... be safe," she managed, voice barely audible.
"Always," Lisa promised.
Kath set the phone down like it was made of glass. Gripped the sink again, trying to force air into her lungs, trying to think through the fog of terror.
But the shaking wouldn't stop.
Because now it was real. Someone was watching.
And they knew exactly how to hurt her.
Kath turned on the faucet, letting the water run cold before placing her wrists beneath the stream. The shock of it sent a jolt through her system, grounding her in the physical sensation as she tried to calm her racing heart. Not her face—she couldn't ruin the makeup. Not when she still had to go out there.
Her reflection stared back at her from the mirror, pale and fractured under the harsh bathroom lights. Her pupils were wide with fear, making her eyes look darker than usual behind the mask.
You're okay. Lisa's okay,she told herself, trying to believe it.
But her breath wouldn't settle. Her hands wouldn't still.
They trembled even as she pulled them from the water, droplets scattering across the porcelain sink.
If Crawford wanted to act, he wouldn't have left a fucking letter first.
It was logic. It was fact. It was something to cling to in the swirling chaos of her thoughts. Crawford was calculating, not impulsive. This was a chess move, not a killing blow.
She gripped the edge of the sink hard, her knuckles turning white with the pressure.
Tonight, we're still safe. Tonight, nothing is going to happen,she repeated to herself, firmer this time, willing the words to be true.
She repeated it like a mantra, forcing each syllable through her mind as though repetition could make it reality.
