Seraphina
Three Months Later
Rrrriiiip.
The sound of brown packing tape tearing through the cottage was ridiculously satisfying. I pressed the strip across the top of another cardboard box and smoothed it down with my palm before giving it one proud pat.
"There."
Another box packed. Another piece of our life folded away. Another step toward whatever came next.
"Crooked." Frank's voice echoed with all the enthusiasm of someone attending their own funeral.
I frowned.
"It is not crooked."
"It is," he replied immediately.
"It's leaning left. That box is going to explode halfway through the drive."
Gerald sighed so dramatically I could practically hear him pinching the bridge of his non-existent nose.
"She's not sealing boxes," he muttered.
"She's committing crimes against cardboard."
I slowly looked toward the windowsill. The two ceramic garden gnomes I'd bought the week before sat exactly where I'd left them. Frank's little painted face looked permanently offended. Gerald's held an absurdly tiny flower with all the dignity of an old gentleman attending afternoon tea.
"If the two of you continue criticizing my packing," I warned, pointing the tape dispenser at them.
"I will individually bubble-wrap both of you and put you underneath the cast-iron cookware."
Frank gasped.
"The abuse."
"The disrespect," Gerald agreed.
"I kept you alive."
"You imagined us."
"Still counts."
Gerald muttered something about never arguing with unstable women anymore.
I smiled to myself as I reached for another pile of books.
The cottage looked different now. Half the shelves were empty.
Boxes lined the walls. Blank spaces had begun appearing where memories used to live.
We were leaving Blackridge. Leaving the valley.
Leaving every ghost, we'd buried behind.
Elias had accepted the promotion. Well second promotion just after being Sheriff for a few weeks he got another one.
Federal task force. Still Detective Reed.
Just with a bigger badge, bigger cases. And, apparently, me. I couldn't stop smiling every time I thought about it. Who would've guessed?
Definitely not the broken girl chained to a chair.
Definitely not Joey.
Definitely not you.
I stopped taping and rested both hands on the box in front of me before slowly turning my head toward you.
Yes.
You.
You're still here. I knew you would be. Curiosity has always been humanity's favourite flaw. You know...I used to think monsters lived under beds.
I shrugged.
Then I thought they lived in forests. My therapist would've preferred if I'd settled on childhood trauma.
I smiled.
Turns out monsters are much more inconvenient. They wear uniforms. They become mayors. They become fathers. They become lovers. They become friends.
My smile widened ever so slightly.
And sometimes...they become the person telling the story.
Frank groaned.
"There she goes."
Gerald shook his tiny ceramic head.
"She can't resist unsettling the audience."
"They like it," I whispered.
"They're still reading."
The cottage settled around us in comfortable silence. Sunlight spilled through the kitchen window. Dust floated lazily through the golden beams. Outside, the pine trees swayed gently in the autumn breeze. For the first time in years...
It felt like peace.
Real peace. Not survival, pretending, hiding but home.
Footsteps. Heavy. Confident. Familiar. I didn't need to turn around. Every nerve in my body already knew who it was. A smile spread across my face before he even touched me. Two large hands slid around my waist, pulling me backwards until my spine rested against a broad, solid chest.
Warm.
Safe.
Mine.
His stubble brushed the side of my neck before soft lips pressed a slow kiss just beneath my ear. I closed my eyes. Home.
"Hi, baby."
Elias murmured, his deep voice rumbling through my chest more than my ears. I melted instantly.
"Honey."
My hands settled over his where they rested against my stomach.
No hesitation. No fear. Just him. He stayed there for another quiet moment, holding me as though there wasn't another place in the world, he'd rather be.
As though the rest of existence could wait.
Then he slowly turned me around. Those dark eyes found mine immediately.
There was something different in them. Not worry.
Not danger. Something calmer. Something almost...
Nervous.
"I need to show you something," he said.
His voice wasn't commanding this time. He was nervous. I blinked at him.
"Elias, I'm literally packing the kitchen."
"The kitchen can wait."
That earned him a laugh.
"Oh? Since when?"
"Since five minutes ago."
He held his hand out. I stared at it for a second before sliding my fingers into his.
His grip tightened immediately, warm and familiar, like he'd never planned on letting go.
He led me outside without another word. The crisp autumn air greeted us, carrying the scent of pine, damp earth, and wood smoke from somewhere in the valley.
I was halfway down the porch steps when I stopped.
Flowers. Dozens of them. Wildflowers. Sunflowers. White daisies. Deep crimson roses.
They surrounded the clearing in an uneven circle as if someone who knew absolutely nothing about arranging flowers had simply bought every bouquet in town and placed them wherever they fit. It was messy. It was imperfect. It was...
Beautiful.
"Elias..."
I turned. He wasn't standing behind me anymore.
He was kneeling. One knee pressed into the grass.
Head tilted back. Dark eyes fixed entirely on me.
In his scarred hand rested a small black velvet box.
When he opened it, sunlight caught the diamond and scattered little stars across the clearing.
For the first time since I'd met Detective Elias Reed... He looked terrified.
"Baby..."
His voice cracked. He cleared his throat. Tried again.
"Shit..."
A nervous laugh escaped him.
"I rehearsed this."
I smiled through the tears already threatening.
"I can tell."
He rolled his eyes.
"Don't laugh."
"I'm trying."
"No, you're not."
"I'm really not."
That made him smile. God. That smile. He looked down at the ring before looking back at me.
"I've arrested murderers. I've stood over more bodies than I can count. I've been shot at. I've stared monsters in the face."
His jaw flexed.
"But none of that scared me."
He looked directly into my eyes.
"You do."
I laughed softly through a tear. He exhaled.
"I know exactly who you are."
His voice steadied.
"I know the darkness. I know Frank. I know Gerald. I know the parts of you that make other people run."
Another tear slid down my cheek.
"I know you collect my damn hoodies."
Heat flooded my face.
"I know you stole my beanie."
"...Borrowed."
"My chain."
"...Temporary ownership."
"My cologne."
"...That one was an accident."
He chuckled.
"You stalked me."
"You were very stalkable."
"You terrified me."
"I tried."
"You still terrify me."
His smile softened.
"But I've never loved anyone the way I love you."
Silence. Only wind. Only birds somewhere high in the trees. Only my heart trying to escape my chest.
"You made me believe I could have something besides the darkness inside me."
He swallowed.
"You made this place feel like home."
He lifted the ring slightly.
"So..."
His voice became rough again.
"Seraphina Joey Calloway..."
The entire world seemed to stop breathing.
"Will you marry me?"
"YES!"
I didn't even let him finish lowering the box.
I launched myself at him. He barely had time to catch me before we both toppled backwards into the flowers.
He hit the grass with a grunt. I landed squarely on top of him.
He laughed. Deep. Warm. Real. I wrapped my arms around his neck so tightly I thought I might never let go again.
He buried his face in my shoulder, laughing into my neck while my tears soaked the collar of his shirt.
"I love you."
"I love you."
"I love you."
Neither of us knew who was saying it anymore. Maybe both. Maybe neither. Maybe we'd become the same heartbeat.
Inside my head...Silence.
"Well."
Frank sounded genuinely speechless.
"I'll be damned."
Gerald sniffed.
"I always knew she'd trap him."
"You literally bet against them."
"I was testing character development."
Frank groaned.
"You owe me twenty bucks."
"I don't carry cash."
"You've had thirty-seven years to prepare."
I pulled back just enough to look at Elias.
He was still staring at me like I'd hung every single star in the sky.
God… He really loved me. The terrifying thing?
I loved him just as much. Maybe more. I brushed my thumb across his cheek.
He slipped the ring onto my finger. Perfect fit.
Then I leaned close until my lips almost brushed his ear.
"I am never letting you go..."
I whispered. I looked at him for one long moment. I kissed him.
Then...
I turned my head. Slowly. Deliberately. Until I was looking directly at you.
Yes. You. Still here? I knew you would be. You made it through every page. Every lie. Every murder. Every confession. Every kiss.
My smile softened.
Sweet enough to trust. Sharp enough to bleed. You spent this entire story wondering who the monster was. Have you figured it out yet?
I tilted my head.
The detective?
A pause.
The killer?
Another pause.
Me?
Frank groaned dramatically somewhere behind me.
"Here she goes."
Gerald sighed, sounding as though he carried the weight of every bad decision ever made.
"To be fair..." he muttered, "you did tell them."
I couldn't help but laugh.
I did, didn't I?
Frank folded his tiny ceramic arms.
"Several times."
Gerald nodded.
"You practically handed them the answer.”
I looked back at you, amusement dancing behind my eyes.
I told you not to trust me. I said authors lie. I warned you monsters aren't always what they seem.
Gerald gave a slow nod.
"You did warn them."
Frank snorted.
"Repeatedly."
I smiled wider, almost pitying now.
The funny thing is...if you still haven't found the monster...
then you haven't really been paying attention, have you?
You poor reader. You searched the dark forest, abandoned warehouses, and crime scenes.
You even questioned the detective. I mean the sheriff was a given but...
You even searched every suspect, but you never questioned the person telling you the story.
The one whispering in your ear. The one deciding which truths you deserved... and which lies you would believe.
I never lied when I said monsters exist. I simply forgot to tell you...sometimes...the monster gets the happy ending."
Frank let out a bark of laughter.
"That's actually a good line."
Gerald pinched the bridge of his tiny nose.
"She's insufferable."
I know.
I reached toward the reader as though I could brush invisible dust from your shoulder.
But don't feel bad. You trusted me. Everyone did and isn't that...
What makes the best stories so dangerous?
My smile became impossibly gentle. Almost kind. Almost.
The funny thing about monsters...is that they almost never look like monsters.
Behind me, Elias wrapped his arms tighter around my waist, completely unaware of the conversation I was having with you. I rested my hand over his. Warm. Safe. Loved. Then I lifted one finger to my lips.
Shhh...
Gerald gave a slow bow.
“After all…”
Frank blew a kiss.
“It's a killer story.”