17. Katelyn
Z ayn parks the car in the driveway, the tires crunching against the loose gravel. My grandparents’ house stands in front of me, quiet and unassuming, but to me, it’s a warzone.
Two weeks ago, this place was ripped apart, both literally and figuratively. Two weeks, and I still feel like my skin is too tight, like my nerves are stretched so thin they might snap. Any sound, any whisper of movement, makes my pulse race. Strangers on the street have turned into potential threats. Every shadow feels like one of Victor’s men creeping up behind me.
At least Christmas break offered some reprieve. For a few weeks, I could step away from the chaos of school and breathe a bit. I spent time with my family, reconnecting with them in a deeper, more appreciative way. It wasn’t perfect. Nothing is these days, but it gave me the space to make a plan. To figure out how I’m going to catch up on the mountain of work I’ve fallen behind on and piece together some semblance of normalcy. If normalcy is even possible anymore.
Zayn hops out of the car mid-argument with Karmani, the two of them bickering like they always do. Their voices are just white noise in the background as I sit frozen for a moment, staring at the house. I’ve been too scared to come back here alone, so I’ve been hiding out at my parents’ place. But I can’t keep running forever. I had to come back, eventually.
I clutch the strap of my bag as Corey glances over at me. “What did the professors say, Kate?” he asks, his voice soft.
“They’ve been...understanding,” I murmur, stepping out of the car. “I have an extension on most of my assignments, and they said I can submit alternate work if I can’t catch up on the practicals. But I need to pick up my textbooks to even start. I’m already so far behind.”
“You’ll catch up,” he says with the utmost confidence in me. “And you know I’ll help wherever I can.”
I force a small smile, but his words barely register. My mind is stuck on something else entirely.
“I just hate that you have to go through all this because of that psycho.” Corey says, his voice laced with disgust.
I clench my fists, swallowing hard because his words sting. Alex isn’t a psycho. He’s a good guy. Misunderstood and misdirected, but he’s brave and selfless. A man who risked everything to get me out of that hellhole. He’s the reason I’m even standing here. But I can’t defend him. I can’t tell them the truth. One careless word, one slip, and I could ruin everything.
I promised him I wouldn’t look for him, wouldn’t ask about him. And I don’t even know where he is. For all I know, he’s sitting in a cold, dark cell, paying for his sins while I’m out here enjoying my freedom. The guilt wraps around me like a vice.
Corey sneers. “What an asshole. And I’m a bigger asshole for introducing you to him. I’m so sorry, Kate.”
“It’s not your fault.” I pull him in for a hug. “I don’t blame you for anything that happened, so please don’t blame yourself.”
When we pull away from each other, he nods toward the house. “Ready to go.”
I nod, taking in a deep breath. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
When we step inside, my heart sinks. The living room is a disaster. The couch cushions are slashed, their stuffing spilling out. The bookshelf is tipped over, its contents scattered across the floor. Shattered picture frames glint in the sunlight streaming through the window, shards of glass crunching under my shoes.
I walk over to the mess of broken memories. My grandparents’ faces stare back at me from beneath the jagged glass. I crouch down, carefully lifting a piece of the frame, trying to piece it back together like it’ll somehow fix the ache in my heart. My eyes scan over the clutter, and there’s one thing I don’t see.
“Where is it?” I whisper to myself.
I glance around the room, tossing aside pillows and papers. It’s not here. I can’t find it, and I start to panic. The compass. The one my grandfather gave to guide me through my moral dilemmas. They took it.
Alex once told me that things are just things, and they can be taken away at any time, so it’s pointless to get attached to them. Somehow, I still can’t bring myself to think like that. Because things are not just things. That was his wisdom, a lesson he gave me, a piece of him I’ll never get back.
Tears blur my vision, but I blink them away, refusing to let them fall. Not here. Not in front of them.
“Katelyn,” Karmani says softly, rushing over to wrap her arms around me. “You don’t have to do this alone. You don’t have to be strong all the time.”
Her words break something in me, but I still can’t let the tears fall. I just nod, swallowing the lump in my throat.
“Let’s clean this place up,” she suggests. “It’ll help. I know you, so I know you’ll feel better once everything’s back in order.”
“Yeah, what a great idea. So therapeutic,” Zayn mutters, shoving a broken chair aside. “Because nothing screams healing like going through all this mess, knowing that her privacy was violated in such a heinous way.”
Karmani glares at him. “You could do us all a favor and just leave.”
“And miss this bonding time?” he smirks. “Never.”
Karmani smacks his arm, and they start bickering again. I don’t mind, though. Not at all. Their voices fill the room, and for the first time in weeks, I feel a flicker of normalcy. I hadn’t realized how much I missed them, missed this, until now.
But yet even in this bittersweet moment with my friends, Alex creeps into my mind. The guilt seems to escalate every time I think about him. He’s the reason I’m here, the reason I get to have this. He didn’t have to come back for me, but he did. He didn’t have to help me escape, but he did. He sacrificed everything for me.
I can’t forget him. I won’t.
But what can I do? I promised him I wouldn’t look for him. I promised to move on. All I can do is live, breathe, and soak up every moment of this freedom he gave me. Because that’s the only way to truly honor the gift he’s given me.