Chapter 4 Karia
Karia
The room is too full as I face the door down.
There’s a thump behind me, and I imagine Sanford is shifting his position, but I don’t turn away.
I am between Sullen and him, the former in front of me, his broad shoulders tense as he stares at his father.
Stein glances past me for a flicker of time, a strange expression on his face. But I blink, and it passes. A cold mask slips in its place instead.
Three guards flank him, two to one side, one to the other.
For a moment, it is only this standoff, strangely silent, heavily tense.
Then there is the sound of running. Many steps advancing.
My heart leaps to my throat.
Seconds later, behind Stein and his men, more people fill up the doorway, wide-eyed and breathing heavy.
Too many of them are familiar faces.
My parents, Mads Bentzen—the leader of Writhe—and Von and Isadora both. Isadora’s parents aren’t there, and at the lack of Shella, my stomach twists into knots.
She let Sullen and I escape, before.
But I know now, none of these people will give into me. To us.
It doesn’t mean I won’t try.
“Dad,” I say quietly, pushing forward to face him more fully as he slips into the room past one of Stein’s guards. But Sullen darts out his arm, preventing me from going closer.
“Do not touch her,” Dad says, his voice hard as his eyes narrow on Sullen.
I shake my head once, clenching my hands into fists.
“Dad.” My mouth is dry and I lick my lips, trying to make myself sound braver than I feel.
“You can’t let Sullen go back with… him.
” I glance at Stein, refusing to meet his gaze, lest my courage falter.
I wonder if he’s told them I hit him with a flashlight.
I imagine how he spun the story, if he did.
It doesn’t matter. I’m my parents’ daughter. They have to listen to me. They have to… trust me.
My pulse thrums too fast in my head. We can’t run this time. If I don’t talk our way to safety, I can’t even imagine the horrors Sullen will face, alone with his monstrous excuse of a father. “Sullen has kept me safe. I—”
One of Stein’s guards starts to step forward, as if he’ll lunge toward me himself, but Stein shoots his arm out much like his son did to me, a mirror, and prevents him from coming closer. Stein Rule narrows his eyes.
“You will not approach Karia in that way,” he says icily, his tone cold.
I see my parents look toward Stein for half a second. Von and Isadora are further in the hall, but they are both staring at me while my parents are focused on Sullen. No one has said a word about Sanford Rule at my back.
“She is clearly traumatized by my son,” Stein continues, not lowering his arm.
“You’re a liar,” I snarl, stepping forward, but Sullen forcefully pushes me back with his forearm.
I grab onto him, curling my fingers into his hard muscles, gripping him tightly like I can keep us together this way, even as my heart sinks.
“You’re a fucking liar. Sullen hasn’t done a single bad thing—”
“Karia.” Dad’s voice, low and soothing. He pushes closer, elbowing a guard harshly out of the way.
Like nearly everyone here, he’s dressed in black from head to toe.
At some point over the last few days, they changed clothes while I was missing.
Probably went home to Ritual Drive and made a plan to find me, despite the fact I’ve never been more found than I am right now.
“Dad,” I say, a broken whisper as I grip Sullen tighter.
He is so rigid, and I am trembling with fear.
Not of retribution, but what will happen if they separate us.
“You have to believe me.” I swallow hard, searching his gaze.
There are circles beneath his eyes, his face looks pinched, and I know he probably hasn’t slept well in my absence.
“When have I ever done something like this?” I point out, my bottom lip trembling.
I haven’t been an angel, but I have never run away from home.
Never caused big problems. I got good grades and I still live at home and while I don’t have many rules, I’ve never done anything that would warrant them, either.
Dad glances at Stein, who is watching me with an entirely new expression.
One full of soft eyes, as if he pities me.
His arm is still held out, like he’s holding back his guard.
Trying to protect me. But there’s something absent in his gaze.
Like he’s hollow where his heart should be.
I try not to think of the words carved into Sullen’s skin when I stare at him, but I can’t help it.
Rage makes me tremble violently.
I grip Sullen tighter but I can’t stop the words from leaving my mouth as I look right at Stein fucking Rule.
“You are disgusting.” I spit it out. It tastes vile on my tongue.
I want to scratch at his eyes. I want to break every bone in his body.
“You are disgusting.” I don’t look away from him.
“I know all about what you’ve done.” I don’t mention Sullen.
For some curious reason, even though we all know this is about him, I don’t want to drag him into it.
“I know you are a pitiful excuse for a leader and you—”
“Karia.” My mom hisses my name, and I snap my eyes to hers.
“Are you going to believe him, over me?” I ask her directly, lifting my chin.
Silence fills the room.
Mom doesn’t blink as she looks at me. Her face is a mask; she’s gotten so incredibly good at perfecting it all these years with Writhe.
Believe me. I’m your daughter. When have I lied about something like this? Step out of the shadow of the cult. Leave the brainwashing behind. Don’t think about your career for one fucking second. Think about me.
“I’m very sorry, Antwine,” Stein says in the silence as Mom continues to stare at me. “I… This is why I stepped down. Why I left Alexandria. Ritual Drive. My son is unwell, and he is very good at convincing everyone around him that he is a victim.”
I don’t say anything to that. I don’t break eye contact with my mother.
I feel Sullen’s shakiness beneath my fingers where moments before, he was solid and unwavering.
Greater fear grows like ice in my veins.
“Unwell?” Mom finally speaks, and she still stares at me while she does. “What do you mean by unwell?”
Stein is quiet a moment. I don’t look at him to see what he’s doing. How he’s arranging his features into a mask of lies.
“He suffers from delusions. Has since Mercy…” He breaks off.
His voice catches. It’s almost like Sanford’s, when he was speaking of Juliet, but there’s a difference.
It’s subtle, discreet, but because I’ve heard them both discuss loss, I sense it.
The way Stein Rule is a psychopath and all of his words are merely theatrics. Mimicry.
“Since Mercy passed,” he continues in the same fractured tone.
I will my mother to hear it. The deceit.
“He has been in and out of mental healthcare institutions for most of his life. I have tried to shield all of you from this, and him from each of you. Writhe doesn’t always pass down leadership from father to son, but often, we do.
It gutted me that Sullen wouldn’t be able to fill my role, but I am grateful Mads is here to take on the torch. ”
Mads himself says nothing to this, merely stands in the doorway like a barricade between us, and his son and Isadora.
He’s full of shit, Mom. Please believe me.
“Now, Karia will be shaken, possibly disturbed by the things my son has said or—God forbid—done to her, and I believe she should be fully evaluated, both mentally and physically, by my own personal doctor before—”
“No.” That word doesn’t come from me. For the first time, Sullen speaks.
I can’t look at my mother anymore.
My gaze comes to Sullen, his arm still a barrier to me hurting Stein. His jaw is clenched, chin lifted, dark eyes penetrating as he stares at his father.
I want him to corroborate my story. I want him to show his scars, even though I know he won’t and I could never ask him to do something like that.
I want him to voice his support. To tell them he didn’t hurt me—and the moments he did aren’t their business, because I liked it.
I want him to say he has been hurt by Stein Rule his entire life, that Mercy didn’t die from a self-inflicted gunshot wound, and that he can’t go back to the horror of Haunt Muren, or stay in this place to be tortured.
I want to turn and beg Sanford for his story. About Juliet, Stein’s psychopathy and lies, anything at all. He once ruled Writhe, too. His words should hold sway.
But no one here is even looking at Sanford.
It’s as if he doesn’t exist.
The fact he does should be the very evidence everyone needs to believe me. The man didn’t vanish, like Writhe lore led them to believe. Here he is, living proof.
“Sanford,” I say frantically as Sullen stares down his father.
I turn to look over my shoulder, a chill across the back of my neck like maybe he won’t be there at all.
Perhaps he will have vanished. But I know people don’t do that.
Not out of thin air. I open my mouth again, to implore him to say something. Anything.
But there’s… no one.
He is gone.
Like he was never here at all.
Like… he was only a ghost.
How is that possible?
“Sanford?” I say again, spinning fully, searching the couches, the window even—it’s closed—the dark flooring. There’s… nothing. There’s no one.
That’s not possible.
There’s no way he disappeared.
And he was real. Sullen spoke to him, too. It wasn’t just me.
Where is he?
“Sanford.” I whisper his name, my heart racing inside my chest. Everyone else is silent. There’s no voices, no discussion. All eyes are on me.
And my face heats as I realize I look crazy. My credibility has disappeared, just like this man. No one will believe me now.
No one will trust my word.
I turn to Sullen, grabbing his arm, jerking on his shoulder. “Tell them he was here,” I say, my gaze searching his. “Tell them now.”