The room was filled with a silence so thick it felt like I could choke on it. Elijah and Maxim had left, but their words, their anger, lingered in the air, suffocating me. They were worried, and it was tearing me apart. I knew they wanted to help, to understand, but I couldn’t let them.

They were right, though. Something was wrong. Everything was wrong, but the truth felt like a poison trapped inside me, and I couldn’t let it spill out. Not to them. I pressed my hands to my face, trying to stifle the sobs, the terror rising in my chest.

I felt like I was unraveling, like I was fraying at the edges, barely holding on. Every time they asked, every time they pressed, it was like another thread was being pulled loose, and I was scared that one day soon, there would be nothing left of me to hold together.

I stood up and paced around my room, the walls closing in on me. The bruises ached, the weight of everything pressing down on me until I could barely breathe. They were getting closer, asking more questions, and I didn’t know how to make them stop without pushing them away completely.

But I didn’t want to push them away. I wanted them close. I wanted their protection, their love. But I knew that wanting it and having it were two very different things. Because if they got too close, if they kept pulling at the threads of the lies I’d woven around myself, the truth would unravel, and I didn’t know if I could survive that.

I had to stay strong. I had to keep this twisted secret hidden for as long as I could. But I was so tired. So tired of lying, of pretending, of trying to keep everything from crashing down around me.

I walked over to the window and looked out into the darkness, the night pressing against the glass like a heavy blanket. My reflection stared back at me, the bruises and swollen lip barely hidden under the thick layers of makeup. I didn’t recognize the girl in the mirror. She looked so broken, so fragile. So scared.

A sharp knock on the door snapped me out of my thoughts, and I jumped, my heart racing. I turned to see Elijah standing in the doorway again, his expression softer now, but still filled with concern.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, his voice strained. “I didn’t mean to push you so hard earlier.”

I bit my lip, the tears threatening to spill over again. “It’s okay,” I whispered, my voice shaky. “I just… I don’t know what to say.”

Elijah nodded, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him. He crossed the room in a few quick strides and sat down on the bed patted the space next to him signalling me to sit beside him, his eyes searching mine.

“I just want to understand,” he said softly, his voice filled with a pain I hadn’t seen in him before. “I feel like we’re losing you. Like you’re slipping away and we don’t know how to help.”

His words cut through me like a knife, the guilt and fear twisting inside me. I looked down at my hands, my fingers trembling as I clenched them in my lap. I wanted to tell him, to let him in, but the truth felt like a weight I couldn’t bear to share.

“I’m not slipping away,” I murmured, the lie bitter on my tongue. “I’m just… going through something.”

He reached out, his hand covering mine, his touch warm and steady. “Then let us help you through it,” he said, his voice breaking slightly. “Whatever it is, we can handle it. You don’t have to do this alone.”

I closed my eyes, the tears slipping down my cheeks. “I can’t,” I whispered, my voice cracking. “You don’t understand.”

“Then help me understand,” he pleaded, his grip on my hand tightening. “Please, let me in.”

I shook my head, the fear and guilt choking me. I felt like I was standing on the edge of a cliff, the ground crumbling beneath my feet, and I was terrified that if I took even one step forward, I would fall, dragging him down with me.

“I can’t,” I said again, my voice barely audible. “I’m sorry.”

Elijah’s shoulders slumped, his expression pained. He looked at me for a long moment, his eyes filled with a sadness that made my heart ache.

“I don’t know how to help you if you won’t let me,” he murmured, his voice trembling. “I’m scared, okay? I’m scared for you.”

The words knocked the wind out of me, the tears spilling over again. I wanted to tell him everything, to let him in, but the fear was too strong, the thought of what Adrian or Dad might do was too terrifying.

“I’m sorry,” I choked out, the words barely a whisper. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

He shook his head, his eyes closing briefly, as if he was trying to hold himself together. “You’re not hurting me. Seeing you like this, seeing you so afraid, so lost—that’s what’s killing me.”

The tears streamed down my face, the sobs wracking my body. I felt like I was breaking, like I was coming apart at the seams, but I couldn’t let go. I couldn’t let the truth slip out, no matter how  painful it was.

Elijah wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into his chest, his hold gentle but firm. “It’s okay,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “It’s going to be okay.”

I clung to him, my body trembling, the sobs shaking me. I wanted to believe him, wanted to trust that everything would be okay. But I knew it wouldn’t be. Not as long as I was trapped in this nightmare, caught between the lies and the fear.

He held me until the sobs finally quieted, his hand stroking my hair gently. “I’m not giving up on you,” he murmured, his voice a promise. “We’re not giving up on you.”

I nodded, my head resting against his chest, but the fear still twisted inside me, a dark, suffocating weight. I knew they wouldn’t give up, that they would keep pushing, keep trying to find out the truth. But I also knew that I couldn’t let them. I had to keep this secret, no matter what it cost me.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered again, my voice barely audible.

Elijah sighed, his arms tightening around me. “You don’t have to be sorry,” he said softly. “Just… let us help you.”

But I knew I couldn’t cause if I did everything would fall apart in a way that I couldn’t fix.

Elijah left the room not long after, his steps heavy as he closed the door softly behind him. The moment he was gone, the silence wrapped around me once again, but this time it wasn’t peaceful. It was oppressive, thick with the weight of everything I was trying to hold back.

I stayed sitting on the bed, my knees drawn to my chest, hugging myself tightly as if I could keep from falling apart. Elijah’s words echoed in my mind, cutting deeper than any physical pain. He was scared, and the thought of him being afraid for me twisted something deep inside. I didn’t want to put them through this. I didn’t want them to worry, but I didn’t know how to stop it either.

They were getting closer. Elijah’s concern, Maxim’s anger, Ethan's worry, even Lorenzo’s watchful silence—it was like they could see right through the thin wall I’d built around myself, and I didn’t know how to reinforce it anymore. I was unraveling, and the more I tried to keep everything hidden, the more fragile I became.

But I had to keep going. I had to stay strong, even if it felt like I was splintering inside.

The night passed slowly, every minute stretching endlessly as I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. Sleep refused to come, and every sound from the house below made me flinch. I thought about Adrian, the sharpness of his words, the way his anger cut through me like a blade. I thought about Dad, his cold gaze that always lingered just a moment too long, his touch that made my skin crawl.

By the time morning came, I felt numb.