Hundred and sixteen

I went to my room, shutting the door behind me with more force than necessary. My breaths came unevenly as I leaned against the wood, pressing my palms flat against the surface as if I could steady myself that way.

My heart still pounded from what had happened in the dining room.

Henry had slapped Alexandra.

Not once. Twice.

The sound of it echoed in my head, sharp and brutal. I could still see the shock on her face, her wide, furious eyes, the way she clutched her cheek, completely taken aback. But Henry? He had barely reacted afterward. As if his own actions didn’t shake him at all.

And that terrified me.

Because it meant Alexandra’s words had struck a nerve.

I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry as I pushed away from the door and walked toward my bed, sinking onto the edge.

Murderer.

The word had rolled off her tongue so easily, like it wasn’t just an accusation but an irrefutable fact.

And Henry... he hadn’t denied it.

Had Alexandra’s words dragged him back to that night? Had she reminded him of something I still couldn’t remember?

I squeezed my hands into fists, my nails digging into my palms as a wave of frustration surged through me.

I needed to know the truth.

Because if Alexandra was telling the truth... if I really had played a part in Henry’s brother’s death ... then I couldn’t run from it anymore. I had to understand what happened that night. No matter how much it destroyed me.

I laid back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. The storm inside me raged on, but exhaustion eventually pulled me under, my thoughts dissolving into restless sleep.

\---

The next morning, the air in the house felt different.

Tense. Unsettled.

I woke with a dull ache in my chest, the remnants of my tangled dreams still clinging to me. After freshening up, I dressed in something casual and comfortable before making my way downstairs.

I had to find Henry. I had to know where his head was after last night.

But as I stepped closer to the dining room, I heard raised voices.

I stopped in my tracks.... Henry and Alexandra...

I knew I should walk away, that I shouldn’t eavesdrop, but something kept me rooted in place.

“You slapped me for telling the truth.” Alexandra’s voice was laced with venom, but beneath it, I heard something else. Desperation. “You know she killed your brother, Henry. You know it.”

I felt like the floor had been ripped from beneath me.

My stomach twisted painfully as I pressed my back against the wall, hidden from view.

“Shut up, Alexandra.” Henry’s voice was quieter, but no less dangerous. “If you ever bring that up again, I will send you away.”

I sucked in a sharp breath. His tone left no room for argument. He meant it.

Was he trying to silence her because he didn’t believe her? Or because he did? Or was there something else I didn't know?

“Do you still love me, Henry?”

Alexandra’s question was soft, almost vulnerable.

My heart stopped.

The air felt thick, pressing in on me as I waited, as I braced myself for whatever truth was about to unfold.

But Henry didn’t respond, seconds stretched into eternity. The silence was deafening, unbearable. I bit down on my lip, my hands curling into fists at my sides.

Why wasn’t he saying anything?

If he still loved her, shouldn’t he say so? If he didn’t, then why couldn’t he just tell her the truth? I needed to get out of there.

I took a slow, careful step back, trying to leave before they noticed me.

But then...

“Is there something between you and Sophia?”

I froze.

My breath hitched. A new tension filled the air, crackling like a storm waiting to break, another silence followed, but this one was different. Heavier. Charged.

I could feel the weight of it, the way it hung in the air, thick with something neither of them wanted to say out loud.

I held my breath, my body completely still.

Then, in a voice barely above a whisper, Alexandra asked,

“It’s her, isn’t it?”

I turned away before Henry could answer. Whatever his response was, whether he denied it or admitted something I wasn’t ready to hear, I couldn’t stand there and listen.

My chest felt tight as I hurried down the hall, trying to calm the storm brewing inside me. Alexandra’s words, Henry’s silence, the weight of everything pressing down on me, it was suffocating.

But just as I rounded the corner, I nearly collided with someone.

Tristan.

I stopped abruptly, my breath catching as I looked up at him. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes, dark and cold, sent a chill down my spine.

He wasn’t just angry. He looked like he wanted to kill me.

"What the hell are you doing?" His voice was sharp, laced with something sinister.

I straightened my shoulders, pushing past the unease crawling up my spine. "None of your damn business," I snapped, trying to walk around him.

His hand shot out, gripping my wrist... My pulse jumped.

"You’ve got a sharp mouth," he said, his tone low, almost amused. "If it weren’t for Uncle Henry, I would’ve beaten that attitude out of you a long time ago."

Something inside me snapped.

I yanked my wrist free, stepping closer instead of backing down. "Then I guess you should thank him," I shot back, my voice steady despite the way my heart pounded. "Because I’m not someone you can intimidate, Tristan."

His lips curled into a slow, taunting smirk, but there was no humor in it. Only something dark.

"We’ll see about that," he murmured. Then, leaning in just enough to make my skin crawl, he added, "Always watch your back and your mouth, Sophia."

His words sent a shiver through me, but I refused to let him see it.

I held his gaze for a second longer before turning away and walking off, ignoring the way my hands trembled slightly at my sides.

I wouldn’t let him get to me. But for some reason, his warning lingered in my mind longer than I wanted it to.