Chapter 122

I sighed.

I had a few coins to buy something on my way to the laundromat, so it was better to start walking.

I decided to sneak out before the landlady could look me up and down, judging me for the late rent payment.

I closed my black coat and pulled up the hood, struggling a bit since my curls tended to grow in volume as the day went on.

It was winter, and even though it was only six in the evening, the streets were already dark. The city’s lighting wasn’t something the government cared much about. They had abandoned it after the crime rate worsened and part of the tourism moved to other cities.

There might be a plausible explanation for why the news always featured someone who had gone missing, children who had been kidnapped, or families who had lost their women. But no one offered a reasonable theory. People simply accepted that our world was a walking nightmare, and our lives were targets every time we stepped outside.

Of course, I couldn’t be hypocritical. I knew the many forms a nightmare could take, and I had once thought it beautiful. Now, I was resigned to living in misery and dealing with the consequences of my actions.

Anguish triggered my regrets, and I wanted to cry immediately.

How I hated my life. I hated the choices I’d made. I hated how my heart had been a damn fool for putting me in this situation.

I hated the thirteen-year-old Emilia Gray. The one who accepted the outcast boy. The one who loved him.

The one who, one day, had been stupid enough to be willing to die for him.

“Damn it,” I cursed, furious at myself as tears streamed down my face.

I turned the first corner to hide.

I hadn’t moved on. I kept replaying the same figure, which was once painted in vivid, striking colors in my mind, but was now sordid and vile. The memories I had of Dante were false and corrosive.

The sound of his violin, his laughter, and the way he called me beautiful things no longer brought butterflies to my stomach. They gave birth to bacteria instead.

I took two breaths before continuing on my way because I had work to attend to, but I collided with someone.

“Oh my God, I’m sorry. I was…”

I froze when I noticed the dark details he was wearing.

As soon as I lifted my head, my stomach tightened.

I tried to search for eyes, for an expression, but I was lost in darkness.

He had no face.

I couldn’t see.

It was empty.

His large body, every inch of his skin, was covered by a black cloak, the hood pulled low to what I imagined was the level of his eyebrows. His face was veiled by what seemed to be a dark filter, allowing him to see outside but preventing anyone from seeing him.

A thousand thoughts flooded my mind at that moment, and the first one was to run. But before I could escape the alley, my neck was seized by large hands, and my mouth was silenced by the same.

“Where do you think you’re going, princess?” he hissed, his voice venomous. “We have some unfinished business to settle.”

I tried to elbow him, but he was strong.

“Behave. Don’t you want to be a good girl for the captain?” he mocked.

My lungs squeezed out the last of the oxygen inside them.

I recognized that voice instantly, and unhappy memories flooded my mind.

I couldn’t believe it. It had to be a lie.

But he was back.

My nightmare had returned.

***

**Seven years ago**

"They say he killed the kidnapper."

"My parents said he tricked him and smashed his skull with a hammer."

"A hammer?!"

"Yes, a hammer!"

One of the boys sighed and took a quick glance around the park.

"That's so scary!" he whispered to me. "Stay away from him, Emilia."

I rolled my eyes and stuck out my tongue.

I didn’t know the boy’s name, other than the fact that he liked my best friend, Kayleen. But his words stuck in my mind. Actually, not just his words. Almost the entire town was talking about the lonely boy from the orphanage who had escaped a kidnapping along with four others.

No one knew exactly what had happened, except the local police and, of course, Francis Torman, the lead investigator for all the town’s cases, especially the disappearances that kept happening.

Sure, I was curious, but the fear of losing sleep at night kept me from asking questions or paying much attention to my friends’ dramatic stories.

Yet my eyes couldn’t stop following him.

His jet-black hair, his pale skin, his torn clothes, which were still clean and likely smelled good. His lost gaze, yet with no concern about finding a place to belong.

Dante Faulkner was his name, and it was the first thing I wanted to know about him.

It was strange how I constantly dreamed about him. I’d get embarrassed when I borrowed my mom’s perfume to smell nice on the days I knew Dante would come to the park. I’d spend hours fixing my curls, hoping they’d stay defined for at least as long as he was there. And I’d pray it wouldn’t rain. I wanted to look prettier, to appear older, even though I was just thirteen. He was fifteen.

Ah, that was another thing I knew about Faulkner. He was two years older than me.

"Kayleen, come here," I said, moving away from the swing. My best friend stared at me for a few seconds, said goodbye to the annoying boy, and followed me.

"What is it?"

"Do you believe the stories about him?"

She crossed her arms.

"Don’t you?"

I shrugged.

"For heaven's sake, Lia. Don’t tell me you’re interested in him."

"Curious," I corrected, and Kayleen sighed.

"Please. Don’t you feel sorry when you see him all alone?"

"No."

"You’re heartless."

"No, Lia. I’m just protecting myself from people who might be violent," she replied coldly. "He wants to be alone. That’s very different. Daniel already tried talking to him and left crying. Miss Karen quit the orphanage because she couldn’t stand being around him for another second. Even the cops are scared to be in the same room with that boy. Why do you think he’s the only one with his own room?"

"Those are just rumors. No one’s proved whether it’s true or not," I declared, once again letting my eyes rest on Dante, who kept himself entertained shooting baskets. He never missed.

Well, after all, I didn’t know so little about him.

Dante was really good at sports too.

"You don’t need proof to avoid doing something. I’ve never seen anyone around me die from drinking cow urine, but I know it could happen. That’s why I won’t drink it, you idiot."

"Ew, gross!"

"That’s the face you should make when you see Dante."

I rolled my eyes.

Even though Kayleen was right, I didn’t want to admit it.

It’s better to be safe than sorry. But why would someone who had escaped a kidnapping—which we didn’t even know the full details about—be aggressive?

That thought occupied my mind.

On my way home, I was still thinking about him, as always. For the past three months, nothing else seemed to entertain my neurons. It was Dante, Dante, Dante, and more Dante…

Who exactly was he, and why did none of it make sense?

As I lifted my head, I noticed a shadow walking several meters ahead. Confused, I blinked, but the figure took shape.

"Dante!"

I immediately clamped my hands over my mouth when I realized the name had slipped out and tried to hide among the foliage.

Faulkner turned his head slightly, narrowing his eyes when he realized no one was on the street.

He quickly resumed his path, shoving his hands into his pockets and turning the corner.

Why was he out alone? The orphanage wasn’t in that direction.

That sparked my curiosity.

Without thinking much, I decided to follow him. Dante had entered a wooded path with limited visibility of the surroundings. But I didn’t care. I was more focused on finding out what he was up to.

Even though I couldn’t see him, I followed the sound of his footsteps. His boots crushed the fallen leaves, helping me keep track of him. Until the sound began to fade. I quickened my pace, but Dante knew the area better, making him more agile with turns and slopes. Before I knew it, I couldn’t hear him anymore.

The path had turned into a maze of trees, and I was the only body among them.

Damn.

I hated cursing because it upset my parents, but the panic that took root in my veins when I realized I didn’t know where I was installed a foul vocabulary in my brain.

How was I going to get out of here?

I tried retracing my steps, relying on the footprints I might have left. My memory was terrible, but I tried to recall if I’d seen that tree before, stepped on that branch, or ducked under that limb. Yet I felt like I was getting farther away.

My eyes started to sting, and before I knew it, tears were blurring my vision. My breathing became erratic.

I didn’t have a phone yet. All my friends had one, except me, who had to borrow Kayleen’s to call my parents if I needed anything. But she wasn’t with me. I had decided to leave earlier because I couldn’t stand Daniel anymore.

And now I was lost. Completely in trouble.

I couldn’t hold back and started crying, curling up near a tree. I didn’t care if my pink dress got dirty or if my hair turned into a bird’s nest.

I just wanted to go home.

I wanted to get out of there.

My obsession with Dante had led me to hell. And he probably knew I was following him. It was obvious. He had done this on purpose.

Maybe he was as bad as everyone said.

Cruel, violent, and a murderer.

Suddenly, I heard the foliage rustle.

I lifted my head, which had been resting on my knees and arms, and saw Dante sitting next to me.

My bones trembled, and I scooted back, putting some distance between us.

I could barely breathe, keeping my lips pressed together and my nails scratching my skin.

What was he doing?