32. Ruby

thirty-two

I have never understood what people mean when they say home is not a place. Until now. The house is stagnant when I enter, stale with routine. It feels almost clinical, like I’m not supposed to be here. And I suppose I’m not. Not anymore.

My feet tread lightly over the wooden floors, and I step over the boards that I know will creak. Waking the rest of the house up right now would not be in my best interest. I need to go on as if my heart has not been bleeding out for hours while Cassius slept next to me. Sleep never came for me because I know what he doesn’t. I know that choices are not something I have. I signed away my right to choices when I became Ruby.

I unlock and open the door to my suite. Entering the room, I half expect Rowan to be curled up in here, but it’s empty. Cold. Lifeless.

Carefully, quietly, I close the door behind me, locking it tight. Leaning with my back against the door, I pull out my phone to reread Rowan’s text. It came a few hours ago, while Cassius slept, and I watched. He was so peaceful in his slumber, his breath stealing mine as we faced each other on the pillows. I take a deep breath, clearing my lungs, and unlock my phone.

Rowan: OK! High @ 7am Sry

A last-minute high court meeting can only mean one thing. It’s about me, about Cassius. I rub my temples and look at the time on my phone. 5:17. That gives me just under two hours to prepare. I wish Rowan were here right now; she could help. But based on the last time I saw her on our video call, I imagine whatever she’s up to is dangerous for either her or someone else, which I don’t know.

I don’t know a lot of things lately, and it is beginning to fuck with my head. What I once thought was up is now down, and what was once a way of life I wanted seems so out of place.

What I do know for certain? There’s only one way out of this.

I use the time while everyone is still waking from their slumber to get myself ready— physically and mentally. I wash away the last few days, cleansing myself of Cassius. Ridding myself of his scent, of his touch. I scrub at the memories, the ones where he held me close. The ones where I fought him and he did not fight back, but instead brought me down to solid ground. The ground where I found the footing I thought I’d lost. The ground that seemed so far away but now sits sturdy beneath me.

A text comes through on my burner, but I delete it without reading it. I know it’s Cassius, who just woke up and found his bed empty. I knew it would come. I could have ditched the phone on my ride home. I could have run over it with my bike. I could have stomped on it. But it was a test I forced upon myself instead. One that, apparently, I passed.

Which is good because Cassius must die .

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