Chapter 19 Her Hand Slipped
The floor was hot. My palms stuck to the boards as I crawled, skin catching and pulling against the heat. Smoke filled everything. Thick. It tasted like pine sap and something chemical underneath. My lungs burned and I could not cough fast enough.
Harmony lay by the coffee table. I saw her shape through the smoke: gold hair dulled with soot, one arm bent under her, the other flung toward the kitchen like she’d been reaching for something when she fell.
"Harmony," I choked out. "Harmony, we have to go."
I crawled to her and shook her shoulders. Her eyelids fluttered open.
"Sissy," I whispered. "Please. We have to get out."
Her eyes found mine, glassy and unfocused. "Harper... run."
“No. Not without you.” I grabbed her arm and tried to pull her. “Come on. Please get up.”
She coughed weakly, blood on her lips. "I can't... I'm sorry. I tried to protect you."
"Don't say that." My voice cracked. "Please don't say that. Just get up."
Her hand found mine, weak and trembling. "I love you. So much."
Tears burned down my face. "I love you too. Please don't leave me."
Her fingers slipped from mine. Her eyes stayed open, staring at nothing.
"Harmony?" I shook her again. "Harmony, wake up. Please wake up!"
She didn't move.
I woke with a gasp, heart hammering against my ribs.
The room was dark and quiet. My tank was soaked with sweat and the blanket had twisted tight around my legs.
For a second I didn’t know where I was. Then the familiar shape of my dresser, the crack in the ceiling, and the faint streetlight leaking through the blinds slowly came back into focus.
I sat up and dragged a hand down my face.
My throat felt raw, like I’d actually been screaming.
The smell of smoke still clung to the inside of my nose. Harmony’s voice still echoed in my ears. When I looked down at my hand, I could still feel hers slipping away from it.
I pressed both palms hard against my eyes until colors bloomed behind the lids. It didn’t help. The memory was still there, waiting.
The nightmare always came back the same way. Different details sometimes, but the ending never changed. Harmony’s eyes open. The fire. The helplessness. How right until the very end, she had tried to protect me.
I reached for the glass of water on the nightstand, drank what was left, and set it down again. The clock read 4:32 a.m.
Too early to get up. Too late to fall back asleep.
Lying there wasn't going to help.
Ten minutes later, I was outside in my workout clothes.
I moved through the forms in the backyard, slow at first, then faster. Punches. Kicks. Blocks. Elbows. The familiar rhythm grounded me. Each strike cut through the lingering smoke in my lungs, and each breath pushed the nightmare further back until it finally loosened its hold.
I stopped thinking about the rumor.
I stopped thinking about the fact that Thomas Black was still breathing.
By the time the sky began to lighten, my muscles burned and my mind was quiet again.
After showering, I stood at the mirror, towel wrapped around me, hair wet.
The bruises were healing too fast. The one under my eye had faded to yellow-green. The swelling along my jaw was nearly gone. The cut on my nose looked weeks old.
Cassidy had seen the bruises yesterday. She wasn't stupid. If I showed up looking mostly fine, she’d ask questions I couldn’t answer.
I reached for the full-coverage concealer and worked it in heavier than usual, layering until it would hold through practice. When I leaned back to check, it looked right—a bruise that had been concealed, not one that had already healed.
I changed quickly and headed to school.
The track was loud when I got there. Both teams had already gathered on the dew-soaked field, the early sun pulling thin wisps of steam from the grass.
Bags lined the bleachers, and a cluster of the men’s team stretched near the starting line.
Cassidy saw me and waved. I crossed the grass toward her.
“Did you see my messages last night?”
“Good morning to you too.”
She didn’t even pretend to smile. “There’s been another murder.”
“I saw the headline.”
“They’re saying it was worse than Colt. Same setup. Same throat cut, but this one was… messier. Like the killer took their time.”
“Mmm.” I took a slow drink from my water bottle.
“And there’s a witness.” Her voice dropped. “Someone saw something.” She unlocked her phone and held it between us. “See? Everyone's talking about it.”
I glanced at the screen. A local forum thread packed with comments, all circling the same rumor about a possible witness.
“Saw what?” I asked.
“That’s the part no one’s saying. Just that someone saw. My mom’s losing her mind. She told me to keep the doors locked even during the day, like that’s going to stop someone who walks into houses and slits throats without leaving a trace.”
I looked back at her, face carefully blank.
Cassidy shivered, but the fear in her eyes was mixed with something closer to fascination. “Whoever’s doing this is ice cold. No hesitation. In and out. The whole town’s starting to panic.”
I nodded once, letting the silence sit for a beat.
“People are scared,” I said finally. “Makes sense.”
“Yeah, well. I’m scared too. This isn’t some big city thing anymore. It’s here.” She glanced sideways at me. “You don’t seem that worried.”
I shrugged. “Worrying doesn’t change anything.”
She studied me for a second, then shook her head. “You’re weirdly calm about serial killers, Harper. It’s unsettling.”
I gave her a small, dry smile. “I’ll try to look more terrified next time.”
Across the field Jackson arrived with Jason, coffee in one hand and bag on his shoulder. Our eyes met. He lifted his chin slightly; I did the same. Cassidy missed it, still typing on her phone.
Coach Miller called us in. Coach Reid stood next to him, both men reviewing clipboards for the usual Saturday joint practice.
“Same setup as last week,” Coach Miller said. “You’ll work in mixed pairs. Stay with your partner and spend thirty minutes at each station.”
He read the list.
“Black and James.”
A few heads turned toward us. Naomi made a small, sharp sound of displeasure under her breath. Jackson was already moving, crossing the grass without looking at anyone else.
“Morning,” he said.
“Morning.”
His gaze lingered on the fading bruises on my face. After a moment, he gave a small nod.
Coach Miller blew the whistle. “One thing before we start. The regional meet is two weeks from Friday, and we’re hosting this year.”
The chatter died.
"Every session from here counts. You show up, you work, you recover, then you do it again. For anyone close to the qualifying line, every ten seconds is going to matter. We either peak together or we lose together.”
Coach Reid looked toward the men's team. "Relay squad, your handoffs still need work. We'll spend extra time on them today."
“All right, stations,” Coach Miller called.
Jackson and I headed to station two. Practice settled into its usual rhythm.
Between stations, we talked about our Environmental Science project, the upcoming regional meet, and which coffee on campus was actually worth drinking.
Nothing important. The conversation came easy, and when it stopped, the quiet didn’t feel like something that needed fixing.
I was losing ground and I knew it. Whatever I had been holding was getting heavier to carry. My cat had thoughts about that.
Soon, she said.
Maybe, I answered.
She accepted maybe.
Coach Miller blew the final whistle just after half past eleven.
I grabbed my water bottle and took a long drink, then started toward the bleachers where we’d left our bags. Jackson fell into step beside me.
"Hypothetical question."
I looked at him. "Those are usually dangerous."
"If someone wanted to buy you coffee, would you make them work for it?"
"Depends who's asking."
"Good," he said. "I was hoping you'd say that."
"Jackson!" Jason called from across the field.
“Later,” Jackson said, then broke off and headed toward the men’s team. I stared after him, brow furrowed. What was that supposed to mean?
Cassidy appeared beside me and caught the direction of my gaze. A small smirk tugged at her mouth.
“Don’t start,” I said.
"I didn't say anything."
"You were about to."
She slung her arm through mine. "I'm buying you breakfast. Come on.”
I let her pull me with her and checked my phone as we walked. The Reddit post was still up. No new comments. Nothing deleted. Still just a rumor.