Chapter 81 Behind my back

Chapter 81 Behind my back
I didn’t look back when I left him. I kept walking because stopping would have meant talking, and talking would have meant listening, and I was done listening to things that came too late.
The land sloped downward, rough under my boots. Rocks slid loose as I moved. I didn’t slow. If I fell, I’d get up. That felt fair.
Behind me, footsteps followed for a while. Not close. Not far. Enough to let me know he hadn’t chosen silence yet.
“Seraphina,” Xander called once.
I didn’t answer.
The footsteps stopped.
Good.
By the time the sun sat high, the ruins were far behind me. Trees closed in again, thicker this time, branches scratching at my arms and pack. Sweat ran down my back. My mouth felt dry. I kept going anyway.
The pendant shifted against my skin. Not pulling. Not warning. Just there. Like it was keeping count.
I reached a shallow stream and dropped to my knees. The water was cold and clear. I drank, splashed my face, soaked my wrists. My reflection stared back at me in broken pieces.
“You knew,” I said out loud, though no one was there. “All of you knew.”
The water didn’t answer.
I stood and crossed the stream, boots filling and squelching with every step. On the other side, the ground flattened. I followed it until I heard voices.
I slowed, crouched, and moved closer.
Two people stood near a fallen tree. One was older, hair streaked with gray, hands moving as he spoke. The other was younger, restless, eyes scanning the woods.
“…said she’d come alone,” the younger one said.
“She didn’t,” the older replied. “And now it’s done.”
I stepped out.
Both of them froze.
“Talking about me?” I asked.
The younger reached for something at his belt. The older raised a hand.
“Easy,” the older man said. “We’re not here to fight.”
“Everyone says that,” I replied.
“You shouldn’t be here alone,” the younger added.
“I’m not,” I said. “I just stopped bringing liars with me.”
The older man studied my face. His eyes flicked to my chest, then away quickly. Not fast enough.
“You have his eyes,” he said.
I didn’t bother asking who he meant.
“You knew my father,” I said.
“Yes.”
“And you let him leave.”
The man exhaled. “We couldn’t stop him.”
“You could’ve told me.”
“That wasn’t allowed.”
“According to who?”
The younger shifted. “According to the people who kept you breathing.”
I laughed once. It surprised me too.
“You mean the people who decided my life for me,” I said. “The ones who passed me around like a problem.”
The older man’s face tightened. “You’re alive because of those decisions.”
“No,” I said. “I’m alive because he walked away instead of handing me over.”
Silence fell.
That was answer enough.
Footsteps crunched behind me.
I didn’t turn. I already knew.
Xander stopped a few steps back. “She’s not going with you.”
The younger man smirked. “That’s not your call anymore.”
Xander stepped forward. “It never was.”
I turned then. “Both of you stop.”
They did.
I faced the older man again. “Say it. What was decided?”
He hesitated.
“Say it,” I repeated.
“You were meant to be watched,” he said slowly. “Guided. Kept… manageable.”
“By him,” I said, nodding toward Xander.
“Yes.”
“And if I wasn’t?”
The older man looked away.
The younger answered instead. “Then stronger measures.”
Xander moved fast. Too fast. He had the younger man on the ground before I could blink, forearm pressed to his throat.
“Enough,” Xander growled.
I stepped between them. “Let him up.”
Xander looked at me like I’d slapped him.
“I said let him up.”
He did.
The younger man coughed and laughed. “See? Still protecting you.”
I turned to Xander. “You don’t get credit for stopping things you helped start.”
His face went blank.
That hurt more than anger would have.
The older man cleared his throat. “Your father believed you’d reach this point without help.”
“Then why didn’t he stay?”
“Because staying meant lying to you,” the man said. “And he’d already done that once.”
My hands shook. I closed them into fists and waited for it to pass.
“Everyone lies,” I said. “The difference is who benefits.”
The pendant pressed warm again, steady and sure. Images flickered through my head. My father packing in silence. Watching me sleep. Turning away before I woke.
He hadn’t been running.
He’d been choosing.
“I’m done being managed,” I said.
The older man nodded slowly. “Then things will change.”
“Good.”
The younger man looked nervous now. “You don’t know what you’re inviting.”
“I didn’t invite any of you,” I said. “You showed up.”
I shouldered my pack and stepped away.
Xander followed.
We walked in silence until the voices were far behind us.
After a while, he spoke. “You should’ve let me explain.”
“You had years,” I replied.
“I was trying to keep you safe.”
“You were trying to keep me quiet.”
“That’s not—”
“It is,” I said. “And you don’t get to decide when I’m ready.”
He stopped walking.
I didn’t.
When I realized he wasn’t following, I paused.
“Are you coming?” I asked without turning.
“I don’t know how to walk beside you now,” he said.
“That’s your problem,” I replied. “Not mine.”
I kept going.
The land ahead opened into something new. Wider. Unknown. Exactly what it should be.
For the first time, nothing pulled me back.
And whatever they’d planned for me, whatever had been delayed or redirected or hidden away, it was no longer waiting quietly.
Neither was I.