Chapter 11 THE BREAKING
\[ARIA POV\]
I stay in my car for twenty minutes before heading in.
Engine dead. Both hands still on the steering wheel. Just looking - no focus, no direction.
Emma’s face keeps stuck in my mind
I finally step outside.
The place is silent as I push the door open. Lights out everywhere - just the kitchen’s still on.
"Ethan?"
"I'm here."
Him by the stove - stirrin' stuff in a pot. Soup’s what it smells like.
"Made dinner," he says. "Thought you'd be hungry."
I toss my keys onto the surface
"I'm not."
"You should eat something."
"I said I'm not hungry."
He spins. Then he stares my way.
"Bad day?"
I don't answer.
He turns around toward the stove - keeps moving the spoon slowly.
"The victim was someone you knew, right? Marcus told me when I called earlier."
My blood runs ice-cold.
"You called Marcus?"
"Yeah. Wanted to see if you were okay. He said you were still at the scene."
"Why would you call him?"
Because I felt uneasy." He puts the spoon aside. Shuts off the stove. "Isn't that allowed?"
"No."
"Then why are you looking at me like that?"
"Like what?"
"Like I did something wrong."
I take a glass out of the cupboard - pour water inside. Then sip about halfway through. After that, I set it down.
"I'm just tired."
"You keep saying that."
"Because it's true."
He won’t force anything. Instead, he serves up two bowls of soup - drops one right across from me.
I leave it alone.
He takes a seat. Then begins to eat.
"Her name was Emma," I say.
He halts. Then glances upward.
"The victim. Her name was Emma. She made my coffee every morning."
"I'm sorry."
"Are you?"
"What?"
"Are you sorry?"
He puts the spoon aside.
"Why wouldn't I be?"
I don't answer.
He slouches back - eyes on me.
"Aria, what's going on?"
"Nothing."
"It's not nothing. You've been acting weird for weeks."
"I haven't."
"You barely sleep. You don't eat. You look at me like you don't know who I am."
"Maybe I don't."
The words just sit there.
He stays still - just staring at me.
After that, he grabs the spoon - continues having his meal.
"You're exhausted," he says. "Go to bed. We'll talk in the morning."
"I don't want to talk in the morning."
"Then what do you want?"
I don't know.
I get on my feet. Then head toward the sleeping room. After that, shut the door tight.
Sit down near the side of your bed
Pull out my phone.
Just look at Marcus's number.
My finger floats near - then stops
I might ring him up - spill it all. Not just the pen or the cranes, but how Ethan mentioned victim seven way earlier than he should’ve known. Could mention that too.
But what if I'm wrong?
What if I’m slowly cracking up… maybe nothing here even matters?
I secure my phone.
Put it by your bed.
Lie down.
Close my eyes.
I wake you up when the clock hits three in the morning.
The space beside me lies bare.
I wake up. Then head to the door. After that, I pull it open.
The glow inside his workspace stays lit
I head down the hall - pause right outside the doorway.
It's cracked open.
I can picture him sitting by his desk - jotting stuff down in that notebook of his.
He's humming something.
I nudge the door slightly wider and watch him write. See how his hand glides over the paper - quick, steady, almost like it’s second nature. Not forced. Natural flow, one motion after another, no pause between strokes
Then he stops and lays the pen down, pulls out some paper, and starts folding.
I catch my breath.
His hands fly - quick, sharp. Not even a pause. His eyes stayed up, but he dropped.
Folds only then creases appear. But turns follow next.
Half a minute passes - suddenly he’s got a crane in his hands.
He places it by the desk.
He glances upward after a pause.
Right at me.
I stood still not making a move.
He smiles.
"Can't sleep?"
"No."
"Me neither."
I walk through the door.
"What are you writing?"
"New chapter."
"For what?"
"The book."
"What's it about?"
He slumps into his seat.
"A detective. She's hunting a killer. But she's starting to realize the killer's closer than she thinks."
My chest tightens.
"Sounds interesting."
"I think so."
He grabs the crane. Then lifts it toward the light.
"Want it?"
"No."
"You sure? I made it for you."
"I don't want it."
He puts it down again.
"Suit yourself."
I head out.
"Aria."
I stop.
"Yeah?"
"You know I love you, right?"
I stay facing forward.
"Yes."
"Good Just wanted to make sure."
I head back toward the room, close the door, and lock it.
After that, I sat on the floor, leaning against it, and my hands were shaking.
Holyshit!!! He knows, and he's aware that I’m in on it, but he doesn’t mind.
Morning shows up quicker than expected.
I couldn't rest or sleep - I literally just stayed put while daylight crept in.
Ethan’s not there when I wake up only a scribble on the bench says he left.
Meeting with my agent first thing gonna be back before lunch. I love you a lot 💖💞
I ball up the paper and throw it into the bin after that, I headed straight into his study but to my greatest surprise the door's unlocked.
I'm parked at his work table, open the drawers.
The top one’s got pens and notebooks. Then there are sticky notes, along with that.
Next up’s got old papers stacked around. Pages covered in print Ink splattered all over - mostly red though.
The third one's locked.
I look at it, and after that, I pull out the top drawer once more - searching around for a small metal key, but I found nothing.
I look under the table, then behind the novels on the rack still nothing.
I went back into my seat and checked out the crane by his computer. The one from yesterday evening.
Pick it up, unfold it, and lay the paper flat.
It’s got some words written on it.
Tiny. Barely big enough to see.
I lift it toward the glow.
She's close now.
My hands begin to tremble.
I let go of the sheet.
Stand up and leave the room.
Grab my jacket, my car key, and my phone, then leave immediately.
I’m not sure where I’ll end up.
I just gotta leave.
I wind up at the station
It’s just starting. Not many folks have arrived.
I head over to my workspace.
Pry open the case folders.
Seven victims now.
All died identically.
All stuck holding a bird.
I take the pen out of my pocket.
Put it on my desk.
Stayat it.
Next, I check out Ethan’s social media.
Flip through his pictures
Book signings. Coffee joints. There he is, working at his table.
I pause at one from a couple of months back.
He’s in a park. He sits on a bench, grinning now. The sun hits his face - makes him squint just a bit.
A lady stands behind.
Blonde. Mid-thirties.
I zoom in.
It's Sarah JJennings.
VicTim one.
Suddenly get goosebumps orghhhh!! jezz
I swipe to a different pic.
Three months ago. He's at a restaurant.
A lady sits by the side, right over there.
Rebecca Holt.
VicTim Two.
I keep scrolling.
Pause at a different spot
Lisa Tran hangs out behind the scenes inside a shop full of books.
Michael Cordero is at a coffee shop.
They're all there.
In his photos.
Some time before their end.
I can't beat him because he had this idea cooking from the start.