Once again, it’s silence.
But this time, it’s different and more potent.
Like remnants of destruction, all I can do is watch as life is pulled from beneath my feet and shoved down my throat.
My temperature rises and tears haven’t stopped streaming down my cheeks since I witnessed the bloody scene.
Mrs. Pratt shot Landon.
After eleven years, she actually did what she promised all those times and hurt someone close to me because I failed to keep my mouth shut.
It’s all my fault.
Everything.
If I’d just told Mom and Dad, I’m sure they would’ve found her and eliminated her and her husband.
But when I was younger, I wasn’t emotionally or mentally strong enough and allowed her to get into my head. I believed her when she said that if she could get to me, she could get to Mom and Dad and slice their throats in their sleep.
I believed her more when she used her wooden ruler to shut me up when I started to scream. She slapped and threw me against the nearest wall the moment I started to be a nuisance.
So no, there was no reason why I wouldn’t believe she was capable of much more with Mom and Dad. She managed to infiltrate our airtight security, so why wouldn’t she do more to the two people I loved the most?
And worse, what if she also targeted Maya and Niko as well?
A part of me was ready to remain silent forever if it meant I would protect them. I was prepared to sacrifice my voice for good in order to make sure everything remained as it was.
But it wasn’t until I saw her pointing a gun at Landon that all hell broke loose.
I didn’t only scream his name, but I was also ready to take the bullet for him if I could.
I couldn’t, though, because it was already too late.
Landon was shot. Blood exploded everywhere. I screamed and screamed as he was falling down.
But, in reality, he only hit the ground after he fired his own shot and Mrs. Pratt’s head exploded all over me and Maya.
I couldn’t care less about the pieces of goo and brain that covered my clothes at the time. All I could do was drop to the asphalt and hold Landon in my arms and cry.
I haven’t stopped crying since.
“Say my name again.” He grinned as he wiped my tears away.
That’s the last thing he muttered before he lost consciousness.
Due to the sound of the shots, Mom, Dad, and an army of their guards found us then.
Now, everyone is in the waiting room at the hospital. The nurse assured us it was just a shoulder graze and should be okay, but if that was the case, why did he lose consciousness?
“It’s going to be okay, baby girl.” Dad places a hand on my shoulder to stop me from pacing the length of the sterile waiting area.
A few guards are scattered in front of the two entryways, led by Mom’s senior guards, Katya and Ruslan. They often played with us and made us feel safe growing up. But right now, nothing seems safe.
The walls are closing in on me and bile gathers at the back of my throat, threatening to make me vomit the contents of my stomach.
“How do you know, Dad?”
He stands in front of me, his face creasing with awe and searing happiness.
“What?” I ask.
“You called me Dad after such a long time. I…” An unnatural shine glints in his eyes. “I thought I would never hear you say that or talk again.”
“I guess I just needed another shock.” More tears stream down my face. “I’ll never forgive myself if anything happens to him.”
“Don’t say that, Mia.”
“He put himself in that position because of me. What if…what if…”
My father wraps me in a hug and I cry in his chest, my fingers digging in his jacket, but even his scent and warmth don’t offer me the usual calm.
I can’t stay calm.
Not when the life of the man I love is in danger because of me.
When we break apart, I’m greeted by Mom’s frowning face.
She looks anxious, stressed, and far from being the badass woman who’s not rattled by anything. In fact, her face is similar to the day they found me in that basement and she hugged me and cried.
I didn’t.
A teary-eyed Maya trudges close behind her, fingers interlinked and expression lost, as if she’s back to being a child.
“What are you doing here?” I scream at her. “I told you I don’t want to see her face, Mom!”
“Honey,” she speaks in a soft voice and strokes my arm. “She told me everything and I understand why you’re mad at her. I’m disappointed in her, too, but it’s best we talk about it.”