Chapter 7
Seph
I dropped my fork and shot to my feet.
What was I supposed to do?
Part of me wanted to run to him—to grab him, hit him, demand answers.
Why did you leave me? Where have you been?
Why did you leave me with them?
Why did you choose her?
Why didn’t you take me too?
But he was here.
In prison.
My prison.
I turned, scanning for an exit—any exit. The walls felt too close, the air too thin. If I stayed, I’d break.
If I ran, I might still break—but at least I’d be alone.
“Where are you going?” Jess asked, her tone edged with something almost like concern.
“Bathroom,” I blurted, already moving.
She pointed vaguely, and I bolted.
The moment the stall door shut, I locked it and sank down onto the seat. My hands were shaking. I tried to breathe. In. Out. Calm.
Why couldn’t I calm down?
The bathroom was empty—thank God. The hum of the vents filled the silence, steady and low. I pressed my palms to my face and forced air through my lungs until the trembling dulled.
Then I reached for my bracelet, clutching the beads until they bit into my skin.
You’re okay, sis, I could almost hear her whisper. Everything’s okay.
Shut up.
Three years.
It had been three years—three years locked inside that house, hidden from the world.
Three years since Kieran disappeared.
Three years since that day.
The day I walked into the room and saw them together—
her golden hair in his hands, his mouth on hers, the sound of my own heart breaking so loud I thought they’d hear it.
My chest ached just remembering.
Then they left me.
Both of them.
He left me.
And the worst part?
A piece of me was still waiting for him to come back.
My parents said it was for my own good. They kept me covered, kept me away.
Before, seeing Kieran from my window had been the only thing that made it bearable.
He used to send me little gifts. Notes.
Sometimes, at night, he would sing to me — when he knew I couldn’t sleep, when he knew how empty my attic space was.
On those nights Mother locked me inside, as if I were some kind of dangerous thing, I would press my ear to the window frame and listen.
His voice was soft, cracked on the high notes, but it made me feel safe.
When he was gone, I had no one.
Only Beth—and she was never going to be enough.
I stayed. Alone.
Sable wrote to me a few times, of course.
And now she was gone too.
I closed my eyes.
I can do this. I can be strong.
I am strong.
I took a deep breath and stood. Flushed. Washed my hands.
In the mirror, a pale stranger stared back at me.
Hollow eyes. Silver hair falling loose from the cap.
A ghost.
Maybe he won’t even recognise me anymore.
The moment I stepped outside, someone caught my elbow.
I tried to jerk free. “Let go—”
“Come with me.”
The voice was silk over steel, the grip unbreakable.
“Please. Please stop touching me.” My heartbeat slammed in my ears. “Please.”
He didn’t answer.
Dev’s face was unreadable as he steered me away from the cafeteria and down a narrow, dark hall. The air smelled of metal and floor wax. At the far end, an old elevator waited, its doors yawning open like a mouth.
“Please. Please!” The words tore out of me now, raw and useless.
My sleeve slipped down, and his fingers brushed a strip of bare skin.
The world shuddered.
Something surged through me—heat, light, power that didn’t belong to me.
“No!” I ripped my arm back with a strength I didn’t know I had.
The elevator doors slammed shut between us.
I stumbled to the far wall, chest heaving, every nerve screaming.
Dev stared down at his hands, eyes wide. “How did you do that?”
“I didn’t do anything!” My voice cracked.
He looked at me, mouth slightly open, then slowly lowered his arms.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said carefully. “I’m just taking you to—”
The elevator chimed.
“K.”
The doors slid open.
He was standing there.
A large suite stretched behind him—high ceilings, wide windows barred with iron, the light from a dozen candles throwing gold across the walls. The place smelled faintly of smoke and cedar.
Kieran filled the doorway like a shadow made solid. The years had carved him harder—broader shoulders, sharper jaw, eyes the same impossible blue that used to laugh when I couldn’t.
For a second, no one moved.
I couldn’t breathe.
“Seph,” he said softly.
My name.
It burned.
The sound of it, the familiarity, the betrayal in it. I wanted to cover my ears.
I backed into the elevator. Dev hovered by the controls, uncertain, pressing the button to make it stay open.
K stepped forward, hands clasped behind his back—military, controlled. Nothing left of the boy who used to throw pebbles at my window.
“No one will hurt you here,” he said.
His tone was calm. Too calm.
Dev went to push me out of the lift, but K lifted a hand. “Don’t. Don’t touch her. She hates that.”
Dev hesitated. Watched him closely. Then nodded, stepping back.
He gestured to me—after you.
But I couldn’t move. Not toward him. Not yet.
He’d once promised to keep me safe.
Now he was the one I needed saving from.
“What do you want?” I demanded, trying to keep my head high even though my hands were shaking. “Take me back.”
“Not until we talk.”
“I have nothing to say.”
“Well, I do. Please, Quinn—”
“Don’t call me that.” The words came out sharper than I meant.
Dev’s head whipped toward me. “Quinn? As in Gideon and Georgina Quinn?”
K lifted a hand, voice clipped. “That stays in this room, Dev. Do you hear?”
Dev blinked. “You’re a Quinn?” he asked, disbelief cracking through his calm.
“Dev, are we about to have a problem?” K’s tone cut like glass.
Dev swallowed hard. “No, sir.”
“Good. Now shut the hell up.”
“No one’s supposed to know my name here,” I said quietly, my voice trembling despite myself. “Please don’t tell anyone.”
Dev glanced at K, then back at me. His tone softened a fraction. “I won’t. But tread carefully, kid.”
“I’m not a kid,” I shot back, chin lifting. “I’m nearly twenty.”
Something flickered across Kieran’s face—an emotion too quick to name—then it vanished beneath steel.
“What the hell are you doing here, Quinn?” he asked finally, voice low and controlled.
“What do you think? You think I came for the scenery?”
His jaw tightened. “What did you do?”
“None of your goddamn business, Kieran.”
“Kieran?” Dev echoed, looking between us.
K’s glare snapped to him. “You’ll call me K here.”
I laughed—a sound too sharp to be sane. “I’ll call you nothing. I didn’t know you were here, okay? And if I had, it wouldn’t have made a damn bit of difference. So I’ll stay out of your way if you stay out of mine.”
His eyes darkened, cutting through me like ice. “You would never hurt anyone, Quinn.”
That name again—that name.
I spun on him. “What would you know? What would you know about me, K? You don’t know me anymore! You made sure of that when you left me!”
The room went still. Even Dev didn’t breathe.
Suddenly, the buzzing of a phone shattered the silence—shrill and jarring, like a siren tearing through a nightmare.
“Answer it,” K ordered.
Dev nodded, stepping aside as he picked it up. The low murmur of his voice faded into the background.
K’s eyes locked on mine. “You don’t belong here, Quinn. You need to get out.”
I laughed—sharp and humourless—and leaned toward him.
“Why don’t you make an appointment with my lawyer, then? Or better yet—call my parents.”
My voice cracked, but I didn’t care.
“Tell them you told me to leave. I’m sure they’d be thrilled to hear from you.”
K just stared at me. Like he didn’t recognise me.
Good.
“Sorry, boss,” Dev said finally, breaking the silence. “That was Davis. Something’s happening with Ollie’s crew. We gotta go.”
His eyes flicked between us, wary, like he’d just walked into a minefield.
“This isn’t over, Quinn.”
“Seph. My name is Seph,” I growled.
K’s jaw flexed. “Fine, Seph. We’ll continue this conversation later.”
“No, we won’t.” I met his eyes squarely. “I’m here for a year. That’s it. We can go a year without talking—I’ve already gone three. So let’s just call it now. You leave me alone, and once my sentence is up, you never have to see me again.”
I paused. “Just like you wanted.”
Then I turned and walked away.
I didn’t look back to see his face.
I didn’t have to.
I could feel it—
that same silence that used to come before everything fell apart.