Chapter 44: Beneath the Snow
But he didn’t see it, that night by the lake, the pain in Lorenzo’s eyes, the way he whispered don’t save me as if he was begging for someone to disobey him.
There was something broken in him, something raw and real, and I couldn’t forget it, no matter how much I wanted to. And he said he was drugged.
\---
By late afternoon, Raymond left to get groceries, insisting I lock the door behind him. I did… twice and still didn’t feel any safer.
The rain had eased to a drizzle. I sat by the window, wrapped in a blanket, staring out at the empty street below. Drops of water traced lazy paths down the glass. Somewhere, a siren wailed faintly, fading into the distance.
My mind kept circling back to the same questions.
Why had Nico come to me?
Why warn me about Lorenzo if they were brothers?
And what did he mean, he knows how the story ends?
I ran my fingers through my hair, frustrated. “Stop thinking about him,” I whispered to myself. “Just stop.”
But it didn’t work.
Every memory clawed its way back, his voice, his scent, the way his hand felt when it caught my wrist. The way his eyes softened for just a second before turning cold again.
I hated that I could still feel him.
\---
The sound of my phone buzzing snapped me out of my thoughts.
Unknown number.
My pulse spiked.
For a long moment, I just stared at the screen. Then, cautiously, I answered.
“Hello?”
Silence.
Then a low voice, distorted, but familiar enough to make my heart stutter.
> “You shouldn’t leave your curtains open.”
I stood abruptly, eyes darting to the window. The rain had stopped. Across the street, a black car was parked near the curb. The windows were tinted, too dark to see inside.
“Who is this?” I demanded.
But the line had already gone dead.
\---
When Raymond returned, I didn’t tell him about the call.
I didn’t tell him about the car either.
Somewhere deep down, I knew who it was.
Or at least, who sent them.
I sat quietly while he cooked, forcing myself to eat the pasta he made. He talked about the hospital, about new shifts, about anything to fill the silence. I nodded, smiled when I had to, but my thoughts were elsewhere.
That night, after he fell asleep again, I couldn’t rest.
I paced the apartment, my nerves raw.
At some point, I walked into the bathroom and stared at my reflection in the mirror. My eyes looked tired, almost hollow. I didn’t recognize the girl staring back, someone caught between guilt and longing.
“Why can’t I let you go?” I whispered.
I reached for the faucet, turning on the water to drown the sound of my thoughts. That’s when I saw it, a small folded paper, placed neatly beside the sink. My breath hitched.
Another note.
Hands shaking, I unfolded it.
Same handwriting.
Same sharp, deliberate strokes.
> You’re not safe with him either.
The room spun.
Who did he mean… Lorenzo? Or Raymond?
My heartbeat roared in my ears.
I rushed to the window again. The street was empty now, no car, no shadow, just the echo of rain.
But somehow, I knew I wasn’t alone.
\---
Morning light crept through the blinds the next day, pale and thin. I hadn’t slept.
Every sound made me flinch, every knock, every footstep from the neighbors upstairs.
Raymond stirred, yawning. “You look like hell.”
“Thanks,” I muttered, forcing a smile.
“Come with me today,” he said suddenly. “There’s a café near the hospital. We’ll get fresh air, clear your head.”
I hesitated. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
He frowned. “Why not?”
I didn’t answer. Because how could I tell him that someone had been inside my apartment without either of us knowing?
“Fine,” I said finally. “Just… give me a few minutes.”
As he turned away to grab his jacket, my phone buzzed again.
Another message.
No name.
Just one line.
> He’s already closer than you think.
I froze.
The air in the room suddenly felt colder, heavier.
“Isla?” Raymond’s voice came from behind me. “You ready?”
I turned slowly, phone still in my hand.
He looked at me with concern, but for a split second, just before he smiled, something in his expression changed. Something dark flickered behind his eyes.
The words on the screen echoed in my mind.
> You’re not safe with him either.
My throat went dry.
Maybe the note wasn’t talking about Lorenzo after all.
—
The world outside was a sheet of white.
Snow fell in lazy spirals across Valmont City, dusting rooftops, swallowing the noise of traffic, making everything feel still, like the city itself was holding its breath.
I pulled my coat tighter, the fur-lined hood brushing against my cheeks as I sat across from Raymond. The café’s heater hummed softly, but the cold still found a way in, not from the weather, but from the silence between us.
He was stirring his cappuccino, over and over, long after the foam had disappeared. The spoon clinked against the cup in a steady rhythm that was starting to drive me mad.
When he finally looked up, his green eyes caught mine, soft at first, almost tender, but there was something else behind them too. Something heavy.
“You’re jumpy today,” he said, forcing a small smile.
“I didn’t sleep,” I admitted, watching the steam curl from my cup.
He raised a brow. “Because of him?”
The way he said it, like it was poison, made my chest tighten.
“Because of everything,” I corrected.
Raymond leaned back, eyes narrowing slightly, as though trying to read me. Outside, snowflakes pressed against the glass, melting into little rivers. The smell of roasted coffee beans and vanilla syrup hung in the air.
He nodded slowly, pretending to understand. But he didn’t. Not really.
The longer I watched him, the stranger it felt, the way he kept glancing toward the window, scanning the street every few seconds. His jaw flexed whenever Lorenzo’s name came up in my thoughts, like he could hear it even when I didn’t say it.
Raymond wasn’t usually this restless.
\---
I don’t even remember who spoke first after that. Maybe it was me. Maybe it was him.
All I know is, when I started telling the story, really telling it, the words came out softer than I expected.
“How I met him,” I said. “It was by the lake. He was bleeding. Then he jumped into the icy water. I thought he was already gone.”
Raymond stopped stirring.
I stared down at my hands. “He didn’t want to be saved. He actually told me not to. But I couldn’t just watch him die.” I can't tell him about the drug that actually made Lorenzo almost kill himself.
It will be dangerous and I was sound crazy.
Raymond’s gaze sharpened, the muscle in his jaw twitching. “You saved him,” he repeated, almost to himself.
“I did,” I whispered. “And sometimes… I wish I hadn’t.”
The truth slipped out before I could catch it.
“But you don’t regret it,” he said quietly.
I looked up, surprised. His eyes were darker now, almost unreadable.
“Even if you want to regret saving him,” he went on, “you don’t. Do you?”
I hesitated. The snow outside thickened, blanketing the world in silence.
“No,” I said softly. “I don’t.”
Raymond’s chair scraped lightly against the floor as he sat upright, as if the confession had jolted something in him.
“You didn’t do anything wrong…” he said, his voice calm but taut, like he was holding something back. Then, after a pause: “But if you knew who he was from the very beginning… would you still have saved him?”
The question hung between us, weighty and raw.
I looked down, tracing the rim of my cup with a finger. “I don’t know,” I said after a moment. “I’d probably be too scared to save him.”
Raymond tilted his head, studying me like a puzzle he couldn’t solve. “You didn’t seem scared when he touched your waist.”
I froze. My throat went dry.
“Stop saying nonsense,” I muttered, looking away.
“Is it nonsense?” he asked, a faint smirk ghosting across his lips.
I could feel my pulse in my wrists. “My body moved without thinking,” I said, quieter now. “If I had left, I would have been haunted by that memory for not doing anything...”
“So you’d still save him anyway,” Raymond interrupted, leaning forward.
The sharpness in his tone caught me off guard.
I met his eyes. “Wouldn’t you have done the same?”
His smirk faded. “No,” he said simply. “If I knew who he was, I’d have run away and let him drown.”
I blinked. “You’re a doctor, Raymond. That’s a terrible thing to say.”
He sipped his coffee, unbothered. “No, I can’t swim. That’s why.”
Despite everything, I laughed, a small, genuine sound that surprised both of us.
“Oh, really? Then who taught me how to swim? A fish?”
He smiled faintly, a flash of the old Raymond. “Maybe.”
For a second, it almost felt normal again. The snow outside glowed white against the windows, and the smell of cocoa and espresso wrapped around us like a blanket.
But then I caught it, that flicker in his eyes again. Something hidden. Something he wasn’t saying.
\---
After we finished our drinks, we walked out into the snow. The cold hit my cheeks immediately, sharp and clean. I pulled my coat tighter around me, breath turning into mist.
Raymond walked beside me, his gloved hands tucked in his pockets. For a while, neither of us said anything. The city felt muted, footsteps muffled by snow.
Halfway down the street, I caught him looking over his shoulder again.
“Do you see something?” I asked.
He shook his head quickly. “No. Just checking.”
I frowned. “You’ve been doing that all morning.”
He glanced at me, forcing a smile. “Habit, I guess. After everything that happened, I just want to make sure you’re safe.”
I nodded, but the unease didn’t fade.
When we reached my apartment, he followed me up the steps. The snow had started to fall harder now, covering the world in white. I could barely feel my fingers.
At the door, I turned to him. “You don’t have to keep watching over me, you know. I’ll be fine.”