Chapter 7 #2
Ella tugs on my sleeve, holding up her own project: a carefully glued collage of glitter and paper. “Mine has a dragon,” she announces proudly. “He protects the castle!”
I force a smile, my hands trembling as I take the artwork. “They’re beautiful, girls.”
Emma turns to Asher, her eyes wide with excitement. “Did you see the swings? They’re so high! I went all the way up, like this!” She throws her hands in the air, her enthusiasm bubbling over.
Asher crouches down, his expression softening as he listens. “All the way up, huh? Sounds like you’re braver than me.”
Ella tugs on Zane’s sleeve next, her tiny fingers clutching the edge of his jacket. “Mr. Zane, can we show you the playground?”
For a moment, I see the faintest flicker of something in Zane’s eyes. Surprise, maybe, or the shadow of a smile. “Not today, kiddo,” he says, his voice gruff but not unkind. “Got important work to do.”
As the girls continue to chatter and giggle, I clutch their art projects like a lifeline. My hands are shaking so badly, I have to press them to my sides.
“Mommy, why are you shaking?” Emma asks suddenly.
“I’m just a little cold, sweetheart,” I lie, brushing a strand of hair from her face.
“Let’s get you home,” Zane says, ushering all three of us into the car. He takes the driver’s seat while Asher sits in front.
The car ride home feels like a brief respite, a bubble of normalcy I don’t deserve.
The twins chatter happily in the backseat, oblivious to the tension in the front.
Zane cracks a rare smile at Ella’s earnest description of her glitter dragon while Asher plays along, asking Emma if her castle has a moat.
I wish Damon were here. He’d know what to do. He always does. Instead, I have Zane and Asher. They’re capable, yes, but unfamiliar.
And home… home should feel safe. But it doesn’t.
The moment we step inside the house, I know something’s wrong. The house is too still, too quiet, and the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I pause in the entryway, my breath catching as I scan the space. The twins dart past me, chattering about their day, oblivious to the tension in the air.
“Mia?” Asher’s voice is low and cautious. He feels it, too.
I step into the living room, and my heart stops. Photos. Dozens of them. Strewn across the couch, the coffee table, even the floor, like a twisted art installation. My legs feel like jelly as I move closer, picking one up with trembling fingers.
It’s me at the grocery store, pushing a cart. Another one shows me in the backyard, playing tag with the twins. And another, walking the girls to daycare. Each photo is a violation, proof that Jason has been watching.
But it’s the last photo that shatters me completely.
A close-up of my sleeping face, taken in my bedroom.
My knees nearly give out as I read the date scribbled in the corner. The photo was taken last night.
I stumble back, clutching the photo like it might burn me. “He was here,” I whisper, my voice barely audible. “In my room. While we slept.”
My breath catches.
“But Zane was here. How the fuck..”
“Not the whole night,” he mutters. “He must’ve slipped in when I stepped out.”
Asher’s by my side in an instant, his hand on my arm to steady me. Zane’s already gathering up the photos, his movements swift and methodical.
“He’s escalating,” Zane says, his tone clipped. He holds up the photo of my bedroom. “This is a message.”
I swallow hard, my mind spinning. “How? How did he get in? The locks, the cameras—”
“He’s probably got his own cameras,” Asher interrupts, his voice rough. “And bugs. This place is compromised.”
Zane meets his gaze, nodding once. “We’ve got to move her. This house isn’t safe anymore.”
I shake my head, my hands gripping the back of a chair for support. “Move? I can’t just leave. This is our home.”
“It’s not a home if he can walk in whenever he wants,” Zane says bluntly.
His words hit like a punch to the gut, and tears sting my eyes.
“Mia.” Asher shoots a look at Zane before he steps closer. “What he means is that we need to keep you and the kids safe, and I’m not sure we can do that here. Jason wants you to feel trapped, like you have no control. Let us help you take that control back.”
My hands won’t stop shaking, and my chest feels like it’s caving in, but I know they’re right.
“What about the girls?” I ask, my voice breaking. “They’ll be scared. They won’t understand—”
“They’ll adjust,” Asher says firmly. “What matters most is keeping them safe. Keeping you safe.”
Zane steps even closer, his hand brushing mine. “We’ll make sure you’re all okay, Mia. You’re not alone in this anymore.”
“Okay,” I say, and lift my gaze to Zane and Asher. “We’ll leave.”
“Pack what you need,” Zane says. “I’ll keep watch outside.”
Asher nods. “I’ll check the basement one more time. Make sure he didn’t leave any more surprises.”
I don’t argue. The twins’ favorite duffle bags are already in the hall closet, and I pull them down with trembling hands. Every nerve screams at me to move faster, but my fingers feel sluggish as I shove in the girls’ pajamas, stuffed animals, and worn storybooks.
Ella tugs on my sleeve. “Mommy, are we leaving?”
“Yes, baby,” I say, my voice softer than I feel. “We’re going somewhere safe.”
Her lip quivers, but she nods, clutching her blanket tighter. Emma, always the braver one, pats her sister’s arm. “It’s okay, Ella. We’re superheroes, remember?”
My heart clenches at her words. I wish I could believe it.
Asher comes back upstairs, his expression grim. “The basement’s clear, but we shouldn’t waste time. I’ll get the car running.”
“Zane?” I call out, zipping the bags and slinging one over my shoulder.
He appears in the doorway, his rifle slung over his back. “All clear for now. Let’s move.”
When I reach for Ella’s teddy bear, something feels off. It feels…different. I squeeze it, and the faint rustle of paper stops me cold. My pulse spikes as I find a seam that’s been carefully stitched shut, almost invisible against the worn fur.
“What are you waiting for?” Asher calls out.
“One second,” I answer.
I grab scissors from the kitchen and snip the thread, pulling out a folded piece of paper. It’s another photo. My stomach drops.
It’s of the girls asleep in their bedroom..
My breath catches as I turn it over, and my heart clenches at the words scrawled in his familiar, precise handwriting:
“You can’t hide them forever.”