Chapter 67
Three sunsets had come and gone, marking the passage of time since Ava’s departure from this world. It felt as if the ticking clock had lost its rhythm, leaving me suspended in a state of uncertainty, clueless about my next move.
Upon returning home that fateful night, a heavy weight of despair hung over me like a suffocating cloak. Seeking solace, I sought refuge under the cascading streams of the shower. The act of shedding my clothes proved to be a tedious task, as they clung to my skin, bearing witness to the irreversible damage done. Alas, they were beyond saving, destined for the depths of the rubbish bin.
Beneath the showerhead’s steady flow, crimson rivulets mingled with the hot water, swirling down the drain, erasing any trace of my transgressions. Yet, it felt insufficient. Even when the water transformed into a transparent stream, my hands continued to vigorously scour my flesh. I scrubbed with unwavering determination, as if trying to cleanse not just my body, but my soul as well, until my skin mirrored the shade of scarlet that once tainted the water’s embrace.
Yet, despite my efforts, it lingered before my eyes, a palpable presence that refused to dissipate.
It was insufficient, painfully so.
I, myself, fell short.
For a span of three sunrises, I languished in my bed, neglecting sustenance and motion. It was the sole action
within my capacity.
My parents attempted to engage me in conversation, yet I found myself bereft of words. I lacked the strength to conjure falsehoods and offer them solace as I once would have. Internally, all motivation had deserted me entirely.
In my relentless pursuit to safeguard my own existence upon my return, to avert impending catastrophe, I had inadvertently sacrificed another soul for this noble cause.
And what about Isabella? If this were a game of chess, I couldn’t help but feel like I had just lost one of my most crucial pieces. All along, I had believed Isabella to be playing the role of a king, lurking in the shadows and ensuring safety. How mistaken I was. Similar to her ambitions in life, Isabella turned out to be a queen on the chessboard, capable of adapting and changing her approach as the situation demanded. She was even willing to go the extra mile, striking or even killing if necessary.
I immediately brushed off those thoughts, a wave of self- disgust washing over me. There I was again, reducing others to mere pawns in my game of survival. It was precisely this mindset that led to Ava’s demise. She had even pointed out my selfish behavior, yet not even ten minutes later, I had sent her out to sacrifice herself for my sake. And she did so willingly, wearing a smile on her face, genuinely happy to assist me.
Tcould feel the weight of Ava’s necklace hanging around my neck, burdened with the guilt I carried. At times, it felt as if the necklace was suffocating me, gradually crushing my spirit. But it was all in my mind, and that realization sometimes left me disappointed.
And so, like a broken record playing for the umpteenth time, I caressed the stone nestled in the chain, lost in the labyrinth of my thoughts. It had become a ritual, my mind’s private sanctuary, ever since the day she departed from this world.
Engrossed in my own world, I almost missed the faint sound of knocking reverberating through the bedroom door. Yet, I couldn’t be bothered to turn around and discover the identity of the intruder. It could only be my folks or Lily, for I had made it abundantly clear to everyone else that I was not receiving guests.
“Miss?”
Ah, Lily.
I remained motionless, fixated on the ceiling above, patiently anticipating the purpose of her intrusion.
“Miss, there was another visitor seeking your presence today.”
It was the same old story. Benjamin had swung by yesterday to check on me, but my mother had let him know that I was still under the weather. A bunch of other folks had also dropped by in the past few days, either genuinely concerned or wanting to pry into my business. However, they were all politely requested to give me some breathing room.
Frankly, I couldn’t understand why Lily felt the need to keep me informed.
“Guess what, it was a boy,” she went on. “Some boy named Bash, the big shot heir from the Black Alder pack.”
At the mention of his name, my body tensed up. Bash. I had intentionally been avoiding him this whole time because I
didn’t know-how to confront him. Did he have any idea about what I had done? Had he gotten wind of Ava’s tragic demise?
“…What did he have to say?” I asked in a hushed tone.
“Oh… um,” Lily began, her eyebrows shooting up in surprise as I mustered genuine interest for once. “He mentioned wanting to check up on you. Sorry, there wasn’t much of a message beyond that.”
We had put in so much effort to rescue Ava, risking our own lives in the process, and yet somehow I had still managed to let her slip away. Did he despise me now?
But deep down, I knew that probably wasn’t the case. It seemed unlikely that anyone had informed him about my blunder, considering everyone still believed it was the work of those renegades. There was no solid proof pointing towards Isabella’s involvement… and no one had a clue about the
connection between Isabella and me.
Summoning all my strength, I managed to hoist myself into a sitting position, only to be greeted by a throbbing headache.
“Miss…?” Lily’s eyes widened in astonishment. “Are you getting up? Is there anything you need?”
But I brushed off her words, swinging my legs off the bed, and squeezed the bridge of my nose. I needed a moment to gather my thoughts and find some inner peace.
“Hey, Lily, could you grab me something to wear? I’m heading out,” I requested, hoping she would understand the urgency in my voice.
She stood frozen for a moment, clearly taken aback, before
swiftly scurrying to the closet to fetch what I needed. Deep down, I knew it was crucial to reveal the truth to Bash. After all, he was her friend too. If I were in his shoes, I’d want to be
informed.
Merely an hour later, I found myself standing outside the door of Bash’s temporary residence. I had managed to extract the address from the housing office, thanks to my position. They cooperated promptly, which was a relief.
However, I stood there, fixated on his front door for what felt like an eternity. Five minutes had passed, and I still couldn’t muster the courage to knock. Doubts clouded my mind. Was I about to make a grave mistake? Should I simply retreat and pretend I had never ventured this far?
Nah, he’d sniff me out in an instant, catching the scent of my presence. I’ve been lurking outside for what feels like an eternity, so I reckon he’d know I’ve come to pay him a visit, regardless of my next move. I took a deep breath, ready to knock… but before my knuckles could meet the door, it swung
open.
There stood Bash, utterly flabbergasted to see me. His eyes bore faint shadows underneath, likely the aftermath of hearing about Ava’s tragic demise.
“I had a hunch it was you,” he remarked. “Either that or I was going bonkers, being able to catch your fragrance wafting around for the past few minutes. Were you really standing there the whole time?”
Always the jester, trying to lighten the mood even in times like these. Yet, as our eyes locked, I couldn’t help but feel that I had blundered by coming here. I didn’t feel prepared to face
him just yet, and my body trembled, tears welling up in my
eyes.
“I’m sorry, Bash,” I whispered, turning my gaze away, unable to meet his eyes any longer. “I messed up. It was my fault.”
“Winona?”
In an instant, he recognized that I wasn’t alright and hurried forward, seeking to console me. It took a few moments before he spoke again.
“Come on. Step inside and have a seat,” he said, gently taking hold of my hand to guide me through the doorway. “Then we can delve into whatever you’ve got on your mind.”
I stepped into the cozy abode, consisting of a bedroom, living room, bathroom, and a small kitchen area. The guest houses were designed to be self-sufficient, a deliberate choice made possible by the resources and budget we had at Lock Heart.
He led me down the hallway and settled me on the couch, draping a blanket over my shoulders, misinterpreting my trembling as a need for warmth.
“Alright, spill it,” he urged, taking a seat beside me.
