Page 217 of Hymns of the Broken
I’m trembling, bile rising. Riot’s knuckles are white on the edge of the table. Jasper looks like he could kill with a glance.
Box 4: Digital Evidence
Micah pulls out a handful of USB drives and CDs.
“What’s on those?” Macee asks, voice barely above a whisper.
Silas flips open a laptop and plugs it in. My heart pounds as the files load—folders of voicemails, audio clips, photos of me sleeping, screenshots of my texts. One video plays for a second—grainy footage of me through a window, undressing for bed.
Jasper slams his fist onto the table. “Turn that shit off. Now.”
Box 5: Documents & Falsified Records
This boxis paperwork. Thick manila envelopes, printouts. My name is at the top of therapy evaluations and doctor’s records, but I never signed a release for them. Every intimate secret, every diagnosis, every note. And then, at the bottom, a forged marriage license.
I stagger back, hand over my mouth. Riot catches me, holding me up.
“He forged a marriage license?” I whisper. “How—what?”
“Because he thinks he owns you,” Jasper says, murder in his voice.
Box 6: The Wedding Night Box
The last box. Smaller, white, tied with a black satin ribbon.
My hands shake as I open it.
Inside is a delicate set of black lace lingerie, exactly my size. A knife with my initials carved into the handle. A bottle of perfume I remember wanting as a teenager, but never buying for myself, silk ties, and a handwritten note.
My stomach sours.
I pick up the card, my vision blurring with tears. It reads:
“For Our Wedding Night. Can’t wait to finally make you mine, Mrs. Sawyer Blake Lewis.”
I choke back a sob, dropping the note onto the table.
Jasper’s arms wrap around me from behind, strong and shaking. Riot presses his forehead to mine, voice trembling with rage. “You are not his. You never were. it’s going to be okay, Sawyer.”
“I’m so sorry,” Macee cries. “Sawyer, I should’ve noticed. I knew he was terrible, but I never thought—”
I shake my head. “He would’ve found a way. He always does.”
Everyone’s talking. Macee’s swearing, Silas quietly promising that Blake will never get near me again, Micah closing the boxes with shaking hands. But all I can do is stare at the proof of how deeply I’ve been watched, hunted, andwanted by someone who never loved me, only wanted to possess and own me.
And as I stand there, sandwiched between Jasper and Riot, something in me finally breaks free.
I’m doneletting him own a single piece of me.
Thisis my reckoning now.
Chapter 35
SAWYER
I can’t breathe, can’t sit in the kitchen while my whole life is laid bare in six neat, psychotic boxes. I grab the worst of it—therapy notes, the creepy, distant photos, the fucking marriage license that shakes in my fist and bolt for the basement steps.
Riot’s voice calls after me, “Sawyer, wait,” but I’m already halfway down the stairs, anger thrumming through every limb. I hear their footsteps pounding behind me, but I don’t dare slow down or look back.
