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NYSSA

I sat on the edge of the bed. The ribbon rested in one hand. My phone in the other. The messages stared back at me. Patient. Waiting. Just like he always had. I closed my eyes.

Concrete.

Rain.

Mud beneath my fingernails.

The fence.

Freedom.

I reached for it.

The memory ripped through me. My hand trembled as the darkness took hold.

The smell came first.

Cloves.

Smoke.

Rain soaked into wool.

Then…

The whistle.

That awful wet sound through his nose whenever he breathed.

My stomach lurched. I opened my eyes. No. Not Blackthorn. Not now. I wasn’t there anymore. Not in that place. Not with him.

My thumb hovered over the messages. I should’ve shown Alaric after the first one, and definitely after the second. I should’ve shown him all of them. Guild was right. An incomplete truth was still a lie and I was the liar here.

The screen glowed beneath my fingers.

The thread opened.

He won’t tell you.

You deserve the truth.

The words blurred.

Cold steel glistened beneath the rain.

The wrench.

Heavy.

Industrial.

He hadn’t smiled when he raised it.

He’d watched me.

Patiently.