Chapter Seven
Nora
My hands won’t stop shaking.
I curl them tighter in my lap, pressing them together like that might steady them, but it doesn’t help. Nothing helps. Not the movement of the taxi. Not the blur of passing lights outside the window. Not even the driver’s quiet humming, like this is just another normal ride.
My chest is tight, my thoughts racing so fast I can barely keep up. And no matter how many times I try to calm myself down, the same words keep repeating over and over again.
She’s in danger.
The memory of her voice on the phone replays in my head, frantic, breathless. Nothing like the calm, controlled tone I’m used to. “Nora, you need to come. Something’s wrong. I think someone’s here.”
I squeeze my eyes shut briefly, my heart pounding harder. I shouldn’t have left. I should have waited for Asher. I know that. He told me to stay. He told me…
I shake my head slightly, pushing the thought away because it doesn’t matter now. I couldn’t just sit there and do nothing. Not when she sounded like that. Not when there was even the slightest chance that whoever wanted me gone…went after her instead.
My stomach twists at the idea. What if this is my fault? What if they couldn’t get to me, so they—
“Almost there,” the driver says, breaking into my thoughts.
I nod quickly, even though he’s not looking at me. “Thank you.”
The car slows, then stops. I’m already reaching for the door before it fully settles. I step out quickly, barely waiting to hand him the money before turning toward the house.
I rush up the steps, and the first thing I notice is the quietness. It’s too still.
My chest tightens again as I stand there for a second, staring at the familiar building that suddenly doesn’t feel familiar at all.
I take a step forward, then another, my pulse loud in my ears as I approach the door.
For a brief second, hesitation creeps in, wrapping around my thoughts like a warning.
I swallow hard, my hand hovering near the door. “I can do this,” I whisper to myself, even though I’m not entirely sure I believe it.
I think about the morning. About the way he showed me how to stand, how to move, how to react. It wasn’t much, but it’s something. Taking a steady breath, I push the door open.
“Auntie?” I call out, stepping inside cautiously.
Silence. The air feels different immediately. Still. Heavy. Like something is waiting.
“Auntie?” I try again, my voice louder this time, but it echoes, unanswered.
My grip tightens slightly as I step further in, my eyes scanning the room. Every shadow suddenly looks deeper than it should.
“Nora.”
I turn instantly.
My aunt’s standing in the hallway. Watching me.
Relief floods through me so quickly it almost makes my knees weak. “Oh my God, you’re okay,” I breathe out, stepping toward her without thinking. “You scared me, I thought—”
I stop. Something about her expression feels…off. Too calm. Not like the frightened woman who called me earlier.
“You came alone?” she asks.
The question makes me pause. “Yes…I came as soon as you called. What happened? You said someone—”
“It’s good that you came alone,” she says, cutting me off.
A cold feeling settles in my chest. “What do you mean?” I ask slowly.
She takes a step closer. Then another. And suddenly, everything clicks. Too late. My heart drops. A sharp, cold realization floods through me as I take an instinctive step back. My breath catches as I really look at her.
The panic I heard earlier is gone. Completely gone. What’s left is something else entirely—something calculated. Something that makes my skin prickle.
“You…you sounded scared,” I say, my voice comes out unsteady despite my effort to keep it level. “You said someone was here.”
“I needed you to come,” she replies simply. And that’s when I understand—the fear in her voice was never real. She used the one thing she knew would bring me running. Me caring about her.
“Why?” I ask, even though I already feel like I know the answer.
She tilts her head, studying me in a way that suddenly feels unfamiliar. As if I’m not looking at the woman who raised me but at someone else wearing her face. “You’ve been hard to reach lately.”
My stomach twists. “I’ve been busy.”
“It doesn’t matter,” she says, her voice colder now. “What matters is that you came.”
Every instinct in me is screaming now. Run.
But my feet feel rooted to the floor, my mind scrambling to catch up. To process what’s happening.
Then my pulse starts to pound. My body finally catches up to the danger my mind’s been trying to deny. I take another step back, my eyes darting toward the door behind me. I calculate the distance, timing, anything that might give me a way out.
She notices. “I wouldn’t do that,” she says calmly.
“Do what?” I ask, stalling.
“Run,” she replies.
My breath catches. Then she moves—faster than I expected, something glinting briefly in her hand. I barely twist away in time, and the knife catches air where I’d been standing. My heart slams against my ribs.
Oh God. This is real. This is actually happening.
“What are you doing?” I gasp, even though the answer is right in front of me.
“What I should have done a long time ago,” she replies, advancing again.
Panic spikes hard, but this time, I don’t freeze. I remember. Feet apart. Stay balanced. She comes at me again, and I step to the side. My hand shooting out instinctively the way Asher showed me, pushing against her arm just enough to throw off her aim.
It works. Barely. “Stay away. I don’t want to hurt you,” I say, my voice shaking but firm enough.
She lets out a short, humorless laugh. “You won’t get the chance.”
She lunges once more, grabbing for me—and I twist, breaking free the way I practiced, clumsy but effective.
I back up toward the living room, breathless.
But my foot catches the edge of the rug, my balance faltering for just a second too long.
Her hand closes around my arm. Tight. Unyielding.
She yanks me forward, the knife flashing up—
Then, she’s gone. Ripped away from me so suddenly I stumble back, my arm free, my breath coming in sharp, uneven bursts.
A huge figure fills the space between us. “Asher…”
His name leaves my lips before I even see him clearly.
Relief crashes into me so hard it almost makes my knees give.
One second, my arm is still tingling from where she grabbed me, and the next, I’m pressed against Asher’s back.
My fingers clutch the fabric of his shirt like it’s the only thing holding me upright.
His grip on her wrist is tight. Completely unyielding. He twists just enough to force the weapon from her hand. It clatters to the floor, the sound sharp and final in the tense silence that follows.
“Don’t,” he says, his voice low, dangerous in a way I’ve never heard before.
He forces her down onto the couch, securing her arms behind her back. She struggles, but it doesn’t matter. He’s stronger. More controlled.
“You’re done,” he says, his voice cold.
She exhales sharply, still not looking scared. “You think this ends here?” She turns to me, and something maniacal flashes in her eyes. “All those years I gave you. All that money I watched over that should have been mine. You were the only thing standing between me and every cent of it.”
Something inside me twists painfully, but I force myself to speak. “Why?” My voice cracks, but I don’t stop. “Why would you do this? You raised me. You took care of me. You—”
“I waited,” she cuts in sharply. “Do you have any idea what it’s like to wait that long? To manage everything, hold it together, make sure you had everything you needed while knowing none of it was mine?”
The words hit differently. Colder.
“It was always supposed to be mine,” she continues, her voice tightening. “I did everything right. I stayed. I handled everything after your parents died. I made sure you were safe, educated, comfortable. And for what? To hand it all over to you when you turn twenty?”
My throat tightens. “So you decided to kill me?” I ask, disbelief lacing every word.
She doesn’t hesitate. “Yes.”
“You’re insane,” I whisper.
“Maybe,” she says, not even denying it. “But I’m also right.”
Before I can respond, Asher’s voice cuts through. “You can explain it to the police.”
A few minutes later, sirens cut through the silence outside, growing louder until red and blue lights flash through the windows. Everything moves quickly after that—officers stepping in, taking control, pulling her away from Asher’s hold and into cuffs.
She doesn’t resist. She just looks at me one last time.
We give our statements to the police, who eventually tell us we can go.
“Come on,” Asher says quietly beside me, his hand finding mine, steady and grounding.
???
The ride back to Wilder House is quiet. I’m still shaken, still processing everything, but I’m not alone in it.
Asher’s hand doesn’t leave mine. Not once. By the time we get back inside the apartment, the weight of everything finally catches up to me. The door barely closes before I turn to him, my emotions spilling over all at once.
“I’m sorry,” I say quickly, the words rushing out. “I shouldn’t have left, I should’ve listened to you, I just…I thought she was in danger, and I didn’t think—”
“You could’ve died, Nora,” he cuts in softly, his tone devastating.
The words hit harder than anything else. I swallow hard, my gaze dropping. “I didn’t want anything to happen to her.”
“And what about you?” he presses gently. “What do you think it would do to me if she had hurt you? Or worse?”
I don’t answer.
Because I don’t have one. “I’m sorry.”
He exhales sharply, dragging a hand through his hair as he turns away for a second. It’s as if he’s trying to get himself under control. When he turns back, his gaze locks onto mine again, still intense but steadier now.
“You don’t do that again, sweetheart.”
“I won’t,” I say immediately.
“I mean it.”
“I know.”
He steps closer, his hand coming up to tilt my chin so I’m forced to look at him. He studies me for a second, searching for something, then nods once, like that’s enough. Relief washes through me, soft and overwhelming.
And before I can stop myself, I step forward, wrapping my arms around him tightly. For a second, he doesn’t move, but then he shudders as his arms come around me.
“I thought I lost you,” he whispers against my neck.
“You didn’t,” I reply, my voice soothing.
“But I could have,” he reiterates.
My hold tightens slightly at that. “But you didn’t.”
We stay like that for a moment. Everything else fades into the background again, until the tension finally starts to ease. It’s replaced by something softer, something more certain.
I pull back slightly, looking up at him. “I was so scared.”
“I know. She can’t hurt you anymore.”
I nod. Then I hold his soft gaze. In his steel gray eyes, I see everything he feels—the intensity and the quiet assurance of his promise, laid bare for me. Before he can say anything, I whisper, “I love you.”
The words hang there, undeniable. An unmistakable declaration of my heart.
His expression softens, almost probing. “You mean that?” he asks, his tone a little scared. A little uncertain.
“Loving you is the most certain thing I’ve ever felt,” I reply.
A wide, blinding smile graces his face. Then, a quieter but just as certain declaration leaves his lips. “I love you. So much.”
“I know.”
Something inside me settles completely. Like everything we just went through led us to this moment. To something solid and real.
“We should leave,” I say after a moment, my voice softer now. “Start somewhere new. Somewhere…not tied to all of this.”
His gaze holds mine for a second longer, then he nods slowly. “Yeah.”
“Travel,” I add, a small smile forming despite everything. “See the world. Start fresh.”
His lips curve slightly, something rare and genuine. “You’ve always wanted that. Now you can.”
My fingers tighten in his shirt. “I can’t wait.”
I smile, the weight of everything finally lifting just enough to breathe again. To hope again.