Chapter 98: CHAPTER NINETY-EIGHT

Winter’s POV

The air in the house felt thick with dread, a feeling that gnawed at me from the moment I hung up the phone with Trey, Cami had been found. The words echoed in my mind, but there was still a constant drumbeat of terror that I couldn’t escape.

I felt like I was sinking, like I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. All I could do was hold onto the thread of hope that maybe, just maybe, this was some kind of misunderstanding.

But deep down, I knew better. Eric was a monster—calculating, cruel, and driven by desperation. And Cami, in her innocence, had become his next target.

I didn’t know where to go, who to turn to. Damon was still working with Trey to figure out our next steps, but there was nothing concrete yet.

The pieces of the puzzle were scattered, the picture incomplete. We couldn’t move until we had a plan, but that didn’t make the waiting any easier.

The house was eerily quiet. Kai was asleep, unaware of the storm that was raging just outside his door. I envied him, in a way. His world was still simple. Mine, on the other hand, was crumbling.

My phone buzzed again, a message from Damon.

“Stay strong. We’re closing in on Eric. I won’t let anything happen to her.”

But those words felt empty, like a promise made in the heat of the moment. How could anyone guarantee safety when dealing with someone like Eric? The truth was, we were playing a dangerous game, one where the stakes were higher than we’d ever imagined.

I pressed my palm to my forehead, trying to push the panic away, but it was relentless. I couldn’t sit idly by. I couldn’t wait any longer.

My sister, the one person I could always count on, was out there, in the hands of someone who had no regard for human life. I needed to find her.

I stood up, pacing the room, my mind racing. The logical part of me told me to wait, to trust Damon and Trey, but the rest of me screamed for action. I grabbed my coat, determined to leave

I tried to call Damon again, but his phone went straight to voicemail. Anxiety gnawed at my gut. I tried to distract myself, tried to focus on anything other than the chaos swirling around me, but it was impossible.

Every knock at the door, every shadow outside the window, made me jump. Every time the phone buzzed, I prayed it was news of Cami’s whereabouts, but nothing came.

Night fell, and I sat on the edge of the bed, my legs tucked under me, waiting for some sign, some word that would bring her home.

But with each passing moment, the fear only deepened. Cami was out there, and Eric was out there with her. I couldn’t help but wonder if I would ever see her again.

I thought about Luisa, how she’d reacted when I told her what had happened. I could feel the weight of our strained relationship pressing down on me, the unresolved tension from years of silence and distance.

But this wasn’t the time for that. I needed her now, just as much as I needed Damon, just as much as I needed Cami to be okay.

I found myself standing in front of the mirror, staring at my reflection. I had to keep it together, for Cami, for Luisa, for Kai. But all I wanted to do was crumble, to give in to the fear and the grief that threatened to swallow me whole. I didn't even realize when Damon returned reassuring me that Trey and his people were going to bring her home safely.

Trey has always been one of Damon's closest teammates and it's nice to have a teammate that can double as a bodygaurd.

And then my entire world shifted with a single phone call.

It was late in the evening, and the rain poured relentlessly outside, mirroring the dread that settled deep in my chest.

Damon had answered his phone first, his expression darkening with every passing second. His knuckles went white around the device, and when he hung up, he turned to me, his face unreadable.

“Winter…” He said my name softly, but the weight behind it made my knees weaken.

“What is it?” My voice cracked.

“It’s about Cami.”

The room seemed to tilt, the edges of my vision blurring. “What happened? Is she okay?”

Damon hesitated, his lips pressing into a thin line. His silence was more telling than words. My heartbeat thundered in my ears as he stepped closer, placing his hands on my arms as though to steady me.

“She’s gone,” he said finally, his voice raw. “There was an accident.”

The words didn’t make sense at first. “No. No, that can’t be right.” I pulled away from him, shaking my head furiously. “She was fine. I thought they just found her”

“Winter…”

“No!” I screamed, backing away until my legs hit the edge of the couch. The denial swirled like a storm in my chest, hot and suffocating. “There’s a mistake. She’s—she’s fine. She has to be fine.”

Damon reached for me again, his expression pained. “I’m so sorry.”

The tears came then, sharp and hot, blurring my vision as the truth clawed its way into my heart. Cami, my sister, my constant, was gone.

“Who told you?” I demanded, my voice trembling.

Trey called me as soon as it happened. She was caught in the crossfire of the car chase. She didn’t…” He trailed off, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard.

I collapsed onto the couch, clutching my stomach as if I could physically hold myself together. The pain was unlike anything I had ever felt, raw and unrelenting. Damon sat beside me, his arms encircling me as I sobbed into his chest.

“She’s supposed to be here,” I choked out. “She was supposed to help me with Kai’s birthday. She was supposed to…” My words disintegrated into cries, each one ripping through me like a jagged blade.

Damon didn’t say anything; he simply held me, his own grief palpable in the way he tightened his grip.

The hours blurred into one long stretch of sorrow. Kai had been put to bed earlier, blissfully unaware of the devastation unfolding in the next room.

When the knock came at the door, Damon stood to answer it. I heard murmured voices before Luisa walked in, her face pale and blotchy from crying.

Our eyes met, and for a moment, neither of us moved. Then, without a word, she crossed the room and pulled me into her arms.

I stiffened at first, the weight of our strained relationship hanging between us. But as her sobs mingled with mine, the wall between us cracked just a little.

“She was so young,” Luisa whispered, her voice broken. “She had so much left to do.”

I couldn’t respond. The pain was too fresh, too overwhelming.

Damon soon arrived, hovering nearby, his gaze flickering between us as though unsure whether to stay or leave. When I caught his eye, I gave him a small nod, silently telling him it was okay to step back.

Luisa and I sat together on the couch, clinging to each other as the storm outside raged on. We didn’t speak much after that. Words felt too fragile, too insignificant for the magnitude of our loss.

Later that night, after Luisa had left and Damon had put Kai to bed, I sat alone in the living room, staring blankly at the photo of Cami on my phone. It was from her last visit, her smile wide and carefree as she held Kai in her arms.

“How did this happen?” I whispered into the empty room.

Damon came in quietly, sitting beside me. “I don’t have answers, Winter. But I promise you, we’ll get through this.”

“How?” I asked, my voice breaking. “How do you get through losing someone like her?”

He didn’t respond immediately, his gaze fixed on the floor. “You don’t. Not really. But you keep going because that’s what they would want. That’s what she would want.”

I wanted to argue, to tell him he didn’t understand. But the truth was, he did. Damon had lost people before—he knew this pain better than I did.

I leaned into him, letting his presence anchor me as the weight of the day pressed down on me.

“We’ll take it one day at a time,” he said softly. “Together.”

His words were a small comfort, but they were enough to hold onto as the night stretched on.

By morning, the shock had worn off, leaving a heavy numbness in its place. Kai bounded into the room, his cheerful energy a stark contrast to the grief that hung in the air.

“Good morning, Mommy! Good morning, Dada!” he chirped, climbing onto the couch between us.

“Morning, buddy,” Damon said, ruffling his hair.

I forced a smile, pulling Kai into my arms. “Good morning, sweetheart.”

He wiggled out of my embrace and held up a crumpled piece of paper. “I made this for Auntie Cami. Can we give it to her today?”

The breath left my lungs in a painful rush. Damon reached over, gently taking the drawing from Kai’s hands. It was a picture of all of us—me, Damon, Kai, and Cami—standing in front of a big, colorful house.

“That’s beautiful, Kai,” Damon said, his voice thick.

Kai beamed. “Do you think she’ll like it?”

“She’ll love it,” I whispered, tears spilling down my cheeks.

Damon glanced at me, his expression filled with quiet understanding. “How about we put this somewhere special for her?”

Kai nodded eagerly. “Okay!”

As he ran off to get tape, I turned to Damon, my voice barely audible. “How do I tell him?”

“We’ll figure it out,” he said, his hand covering mine. “When the time is right, we’ll tell him together.”

I nodded, my heart aching at the thought of shattering Kai’s innocence. For now, I would let him hold onto his joy a little longer.

And as the rain continued to fall outside, I clung to the fragile hope that we could find a way through this, one small step at a time.

In the quiet moments before dawn breaks,

I find myself lost in the choices I make.

The world spins around with a rhythm so slow,

But inside my chest, I feel the undertow.

There’s a war within, a battle unseen,

Between the darkness and what could have been.

I try to outrun it, but it follows close,

A shadow that lingers, never letting go.

I reach for the light, but it’s just out of grasp,

A flicker that fades before I can clasp.

And still, I push forward, though weary and torn,

Hoping the light will guide me, reborn.

But in the shadows, I find something true,

A part of myself I never knew.

For even in darkness, there’s strength to be found,

A lesson in silence, a soft, healing sound.

So I’ll embrace the night and its quiet despair,

For in its embrace, I learn to repair.

And when the sun rises, as it surely will,

I’ll stand a little taller, stronger still.