Chapter One Hundred One
Ruby
The house is the kind of quiet that presses in from every direction until even breathing sounds too loud. I sit curled into the corner of the couch staring at nothing. Not thinking. Not crying. Just… empty.
The clock on the kitchen wall ticks steadily, each second dragging longer than the last. Xavier left almost three hours ago. He argued. Said he wanted to stay to make sure I was safe. But I’m done being an obligation.
It would’ve been different if he told me I was wrong. If he promised we’d figure things out. But he didn’t say he wanted more. Didn’t say I mattered differently. Didn’t say that he wanted to label things.
The memory settles heavily in my chest. I swallow hard and glance toward the kitchen clock again. Nine thirty. The pigs need fed. Life keeps moving whether I want it to or not.
I push myself off the couch. Squirt snuffles awake from his blanket pile beside the recliner and lets out a sleepy grunt before waddling toward the back door, tail twitching once.
“Yeah,” I murmur. “I know.”
The night air hits cold against my skin the second I step onto the porch. The yard glows beneath the porch light, but beyond that everything disappears into darkness. The pig pen rustles. Samson lets out an impatient grunt from near the gate.
“Alright.” I grab the feed bucket and start across the grass. “I’m coming.”
The pigs crowd forward the second they see me. Even the piglets shove tiny snouts through the fence slats, squealing over each other.
For a few minutes, I let myself focus on that instead of everything else. I pour the feed into the trough. The pigs jostle for space while Squirt noses around near my boots searching for dropped pellets.
The familiar sounds should feel comforting. Instead they make me tired. Because the truth is, none of this should’ve surprised me.
Xavier warned me from the beginning exactly who he was.
A tear slips down my cheek before I notice it. I wipe it away with the sleeve of my hoodie. “Get it together.”
But it hurts anyway.
The pigs settle into the straw after they finish eating. The yard grows quiet again.
A faint crunch echoes somewhere near the tree line causing me to jump. My gaze lifts toward the darkness beyond the reach of the porch light. Nothing. Probably an animal. Probably the wind shifting branches.
And honestly? I don’t have enough energy left tonight to jump at every sound.
I tighten my grip on the empty feed bucket and turn back toward the house. The porch light glows ahead of me. Warm. Familiar. Home.
Another faint sound comes from somewhere behind me. Closer this time.
Before I can fully turn, something rushes through the darkness at my side. Then thud. Impact. A violent crack explodes against the side of my head. White light bursts across my vision so it doesn’t even feel real at first.
The ground tilts hard beneath me. My knees buckle. The feed bucket slips from my fingers. It hits the grass somewhere far away. Pain crashes in a split second later, sharp, blinding, disorienting.
The world spins sideways as cold grass slams into my palms. Somewhere nearby, Squirt lets out a shrill panicked squeal.
Another sound follows, heavy breathing, footsteps, movement, or maybe that’s just blood rushing in my ears. I try to push up. Can’t. Everything blurs together.
The porch light smears across my vision in hazy yellow streaks. Then darkness rushes in fast and hard.
And everything disappears.