Chapter 24 #2
A chill washes over me, freezing me mid-step. Slowly, I descend and move toward it, dread coiling in my stomach like a living thing. I already know what it is before I reach it.
The words glare up at me in bold, black ink:
Stop looking. This is your final warning.
This isn’t the first time I’ve received such a warning. It’s not the first time I’ve been told to back off, to stop digging for answers about the crash, about my father, about Wren.
And I’ve seen what they can do if we choose not to listen. They know about Sam and me looking into things, perhaps even getting too close. They know more than I’m comfortable with.
If they’re watching, if they’re capable of getting into our house, who knows what else they can do?
It’s a choice between satisfying my curiosity and keeping my family safe. A simple one. I need to drop this, to let it go. Maybe if we back off, if we stop probing, they’ll leave us alone. It’s not worth the danger anymore. It never was.
I clutch the paper in my hand, fold it carefully and tuck it into my pocket.
***
I sit in a weird, crossed position in front of Naomi’s mirror.
The scar on my face glares back at me, and I unscrew the concealer, hoping—stupidly—that this time, I’ll be able to cover it up. It’s never worked very well; some wounds always manage to find a way to resurface.
A thin swipe over the scar. Another. But it really isn’t doing much.
By the fifth coat, I’m desperate. The concealer is starting to cake, and the scar is only somewhat masked. The makeup any of us have isn’t the best quality, but it’s all we can afford.
I pause and glance at my reflection, press my lips together, my chest tight with frustration. I’m not sure what I was expecting.
With a sigh, I set the concealer down. I’ve reached my limit. This is as good as it’s going to get.
The door creaks open behind me, and I glance up to see Naomi stepping inside. Her hair drips onto her uniform, dark strands clinging to her neck. She pauses in the doorway, giving me a quick once-over with those piercing eyes of hers. Then her lips twitch—somewhere between a smirk and a frown.
“That’s definitely not your shade,” she says, the corner of her mouth lifting in that dry, Naomi kind of way.
“Yeah, well, it’s the only one I’ve got,” I shoot back, resisting the urge to roll my eyes. Her comment stings, though I hate that it does. I’ve had enough of people staring at my face like it’s something grotesque to be fixed.
Naomi strolls across the room and sinks onto her bed, watching me. I meet her gaze in the mirror for a second before turning away. I reach into my pocket and pull out the crumpled note, smoothing it with my fingers. No words, no dramatic buildup—I just hand it to her.
Her brows knit together as she reads it, the tension in her shoulders tightening. Her voice is taut, a thin wire stretched too far. “What does it mean by ‘final warning’?”
I lean against the bed frame, my heart still raw and aching from last night. “It’s not the first one,” I admit quietly. “They’ve sent me notes before. Threats. Telling me to stop looking for answers. I didn’t think it was serious.” I swallow hard. “Until now.”
Naomi’s eyes stay glued to the note, her fear barely hidden under the mask she puts on. I know her too well, though. I see the cracks. “You got a warning like this before and didn’t think it was important to tell us?” she says, her voice laced with quiet accusation.
I bristle, my pulse quickening. “I was going to tell you,” I reply, trying to keep my voice even. “But I’ve gotten so many of those kinds of messages before. Nothing happened. And then we saw… what we saw, and our house got broken into and there was no time.”
Her lips press into a thin line, and she exhales long and slow, like she’s holding herself back. Holding something back. “This isn’t just about you, Addie. We’re in this together, remember? Or do you always have to carry the world on your shoulders?”
Honestly, the words hit a nerve. I clench my fists, fighting the urge to snap back.
Naomi has a spectacular way of throwing truths around like they’re knives.
Sharp ones that are quick and precise. Designed to hurt, just to remind you they’ve landed.
“I know that, Naomi. But I’ve been doing my best to keep us safe.
What good would it have done to tell you about something that felt like an empty threat, and worry you unnecessarily? ”
“And how did that work out for you, Addie? Look around. We’re being watched. We could’ve been prepared if you’d just told us.”
Prepared. Like that was ever possible. I laugh bitterly, shaking my head. “Prepared for what? A guy breaking into our house with a knife? Naomi, I’ve done everything I can to prevent this from getting worse. But I’m not psychic. How was I supposed to know it would spiral like this?”
For a moment, she doesn’t respond. Her eyes soften, guilt flashing briefly across her face. But it doesn’t last long.
“You should’ve thought about the consequences,” she mutters, crossing her arms over her chest.
And I can’t believe her audacity, her selfishness. She’s so caught up in her own fear and anger that she can’t see past it to understand that I’ve been trying to protect all of us.
“Maybe you should try putting yourself in my shoes,” I shoot back.
“Addie, we could have been prepared. We could have taken precautions. But you, as usual, thought you could handle everything on your own,” she says, pointing an accusatory finger at me.
I take a step closer to her, feeling my own anger rising. “And what about you, Naomi? What were you doing last night? I mean—aside from only looking out for yourself.”
Her face tightens, her jaw clenching so hard I can see the muscle jump. “I hid because it was the smart thing to do! No one told you to charge out there and start wrestling the damn criminal!”
“A smart thing to do? Seriously? If I didn’t start ‘wrestling the criminal’ who knows what would have happened to the people who weren’t hiding.
” I’m practically yelling now, trembling with fury I don’t even try to contain this time, because I know I won’t be able to.
“Because unlike you, our mother was unprotected, Sam was unprotected. I was unprotected.”
Naomi flinches, but she recovers quickly, her eyes blazing. “Don’t act like you’re some martyr, Addie. You’re not the only one dealing with this.”
“Can’t you see I’m trying!” I snap back, feeling my patience finally giving away. “You know what it’s beginning to sound like, Naomi? It seems like you’re more concerned about how this affects your life than about anyone else’s safety.”
Her face pales, and for a moment, there’s silence between us, and I can see the hurt in her eyes.
“Addie, that’s not fair,” she says, her voice softer now.
I scoff, the anger in my chest flaring. “No, what’s not fair is that you’re always quick to blame me for everything, for not doing things the way you want them done. I mean—you blamed me for our father’s death, dammit!” The words come out quick, but I don’t regret them.
I take a deep breath, feeling a decade’s worth of resentment bubbling up. I don’t know if I’m glad of it, or absolutely terrified. “You’ve always been selfish. You’ve always let bad things happen to me. Since we were kids, Naomi!”
Her face reddens, the pale hue vanishing in a flash of anger. It’s like a switch has flipped inside her. “Oh my god. Seriously? The bullying? We were kids! We didn’t know any better, we made mistakes.”
“And you seriously think things have changed since then?” I ask, my gaze fixed on hers. There’s no softness left between us, just this bitter, festering wound we’ve both refused to address for too long.
She stares at me in disbelief, as though I’ve grown horns. “Of course they’ve changed! What are you saying?” She throws up her hands, pacing a few steps away before spinning back around. “God, what’s wrong with you?”
I shake my head, a laugh escaping my throat.
“You think I like being the responsible one? You think I enjoy putting everyone’s needs before mine?
I’ve spent my entire life taking care of you and Sam, sacrificing my own happiness, and for what?
So, you can stand there and treat me like I’m some tool for your convenience? Like I owe you everything?”
Naomi’s lips curl into a mocking smile. “Oh, poor Addie, always the victim. Maybe if you weren’t so busy playing saviour, you’d actually have a life. Mason figured that out years ago.”
My fists clench so hard my nails dig into my palms. I can feel the crescent-shaped imprints they leave, but the pain barely registers. “You have no idea what I’ve given up for you all. You have no right to throw that in my face. And you absolutely don’t know a thing about Mason. Or me.”
Naomi steps forward, close enough that I can feel her breath, and we’re inches apart. “You’re right, I don’t. Because you never let anyone in,” she says, her voice dangerously calm. “You’ve built those walls so high you don’t even see we’re out here trying to climb them.”
“And why do you think I built those walls, Naomi?” I ask, looking her dead in the eye as I say it, and watch as her face pales.
Naomi looks stunned, her lips parting as if to speak, but nothing comes out.
I take a slow breath, my jaw tightening.
“You say I never let anyone in, but maybe it’s because every time I do, they either leave or make me regret it.
So tell me, Naomi, why would I? I didn’t choose this.
I didn’t wake up one day and decide to sacrifice my life for this family.
I just… did it because no one else would. ”
Without another word, I turn on my heel and start walking away. I can feel her gaze burning into my back, can hear the slight catch in her breath like she wants to call me back, but I keep moving.
“Addie!” she calls after me, but I ignore her, quickening my pace instead.
But suddenly, her hand clamps down on my shoulder, yanking me around with a force that catches me completely off guard.
Her fingers dig into my arm, the already scarred one, and I flinch, instinctively pulling back, but she doesn’t let go. Slowly, I turn my head, my heart pounding in my chest.
Naomi’s eyes flash with fury. “You don’t get to walk away like that,” she hisses, her grip on me tightening as her nails press into my skin. The way she says it too… so raw and desperate, and so unlike her.
My pulse quickens. “You know, they’re right about you,” I spit out. “You’re nothing more than a selfish bitch.”
Naomi freezes, her eyes widening in shock. I notice the shift in her expression, the unraveling, and it’s then that I realize just how close to the edge she is.
We both are.
For a second, time seems to stop. And then, with a sudden, jerking motion, Naomi shoves my arm downward. It isn’t hard enough to hurt—but it’s enough.
Enough to throw me off balance.
My foot slips on the top step. My body tilts forward, and in that instant, everything slows. I see Naomi’s face—her wide, horrified eyes—as I stumble, my arms flailing desperately for something to hold on to.
But there’s nothing.
The world tips violently, and I fall.