Chapter 94 New information

Chapter 94 New information
“What are you talking about?” Romeo answered nonchalantly. 

"What did you do?" Mr. Vanderbilt demanded. 

"What did you do to Damien and Marcus?"

Romeo didn't answer.

"I heard what happened. I heard you led them into another pack's territory. I heard they were nearly killed." Mr. Vanderbilt's voice cracked. "Do you have any idea what you've done? Do you have any idea what your uncle is going to do when he finds out?"

"He already knows."

"What?"

"He already knows about Damien and Marcus. He knows what I did. He knows I'm not going to back down." Romeo's voice was cold and flat. "And he knows I'm coming for him."

"You're a fool, Romeo. A reckless and arrogant fool."

"I learned from the best."

Mr. Vanderbilt went still. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means you've spent your whole life hiding. Running. Pretending that if you just kept your head down, everything would be fine." Romeo turned, and I could see his face now, twisted with anger, his eyes blazing. "But it's not fine. It's never been fine. And this is all your fault."

"My fault?"

"You let her die."

The words hung in the air between them, heavy and terrible.

Mr. Vanderbilt's face went pale. "I did everything I could…” 

"You did nothing." Romeo stepped closer, his voice rising. "You hid. You ran. You let her face them alone. You let her die because you were too much of a coward to fight."

"Romeo…” 

"Don't." Romeo's voice was shaking. "Don't try to explain. Don't try to make excuses. I was there. I saw what happened. I saw her fall. And I saw you…” He stopped, his fists clenching. "I saw you standing in the corner, doing nothing. Just like always."

Mr. Vanderbilt's face crumpled. "You don't understand. You weren't there. You didn't see…” 

"I saw enough."

"Romeo, I did what I had to do. I made sacrifices…” 

"Sacrifices?" Romeo laughed manically. "You sacrificed her. You sacrificed our family. You sacrificed everything that mattered so you could pretend to be normal. So you could pretend you weren't a monster."

"I did it for you!" Mr. Vanderbilt's voice cracked. "I did it so you could live. So you could have a normal life. So you wouldn't have to spend your whole life running, hiding and fighting."

"A normal life?" Romeo's voice was bitter. "I've never had a normal life. I've never been normal. And I never will be. Because of you."

Mr. Vanderbilt stared at his son, something raw and broken in his expression.

"One day," he said quietly, "you'll understand. One day, you'll understand all that  I sacrificed for you."

"Then tell me." Romeo stepped closer. "Tell me what you sacrificed. Tell me what you gave up. Tell me why you let her die."

Mr. Vanderbilt didn't answer.

Romeo turned and walked out of the kitchen, slamming the door behind him.

I stood in the annex, my hand pressed to my mouth, my heart pounding. I wanted to go after him. Wanted to hold him. Wanted to tell him that I understood, that I knew what it was like to carry that kind of anger, that kind of grief.

But I didn't move.

I just watched as Mr. Vanderbilt stood alone in the kitchen, his head bowed, his shoulders shaking.

\-—————

I tried to call Romeo.

His phone went straight to voicemail. I tried three times, four times, five times. Nothing. I texted him: I heard you and your dad fighting. I'm here if you need me. No response.

I sat on the edge of my bed, staring at the phone, waiting for a reply that didn't come.

\-——————-

My phone buzzed at midnight.

I grabbed it, hoping it was Romeo. But the name on the screen made my stomach drop.

Aunt Marla.

I stared at it, my thumb hovering over the answer button. She'd been quiet for weeks, no calls, no texts, no demands for money. I'd almost started to believe she'd finally given up.

But now she was calling.

At midnight.

I let it ring. Voicemail picked up. I waited.

She didn't leave a message.

She called again. I ignored it again. A third time. A fourth.

Finally, I pressed the block button.

Her number disappeared from my phone, and I felt a rush of relief so strong it almost made me dizzy. I didn't want to think about her or her threats or the money she kept demanding.

I blocked her and didn't look back.

\-—————————————-

The next morning, didn’t come to school with me. His number was unreachable all morning and Kai had dropped me off. 

I looked for him in the hallways, in the cafeteria, in the parking lot. Nothing. Kai found me by my locker, his expression grim.

"He's not coming today," he said.

"Why not?"

"He's in one of his moods." Kai's jaw tightened. "He'll be fine. He just needs space."

"Space from what? From me?"

"No not you." Kai put his hand on my shoulder. "Give him a day. He'll come around."

I wanted to ask more questions, to ask Kai why. But I could see the exhaustion in Kai's face, the weight of years spent managing all of Romeo’s many needs and decided to drop it.

"Okay," I said. "I’ll wait."

\---

The memorial flyer was on the bulletin board outside the cafeteria.

Tyler Wilson. Forever in our hearts. Memorial service this Friday at the football field. All are welcome.

I stood in front of it, staring at his photo. He looked so young. He was only a freshman. And now he was dead. 

I thought about the last time I'd seen him. The hospital room. His scared eyes. The way he'd asked if I was the one who found him.

I wanted to go to the memorial. Wanted to pay my respects, to say I was sorry, to somehow make amends for the guilt I carried. But I didn't know if I could handle it. Didn't know if I could stand there and listen to people talk about how much they missed him when I knew the truth. When I knew who killed him. 

"Calliope?"

I turned. Ruby was behind me, her eyes soft.

"You okay?" she asked.

"Oh I don't know."

She looked at the flyer. "Are you going?"

"I don't know that either."

She took my hand. "We can decide later. Right now, let's get to class."

I let her lead me away from the flyer, but Tyler's face stayed with me.

\-————————-

The police officer found me after third period.

He was waiting by the front office, his badge glinting under the fluorescent lights, his expression unreadable. When he saw me, he stepped forward.

"Calliope Halloway?"

My heart stuttered. "Yes?"

"I'm Detective Morrison. I'd like to ask you a few more questions about the night Tyler Wilson was attacked."

I nodded, my mouth dry. "Okay."

He led me to a small room off the main office, a conference room with a table and two chairs. I sat across from him, my hands clasped in my lap, my heart pounding.

"I know we've spoken before," he said, opening a notebook. "But new information has come to light."

"What kind of information?"