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[Erica’s POV]

I pace back and forth across the plush carpet of my mother’s ho office. The room is a bastion of elegance and power, with its rich mahogany bookshelves and the imposing desk that dominates the space. But right now, it feels more like a cage, the walls closing in as my anxiety spirals.

“I don’t know what to do, Mom,” I blurt out, my voice cracking with the weight of my emotions. I run a hand through my hair, not caring that I’m ssing up the careful styling I’d done this morning. “Since I’ve started dating Jason, he’s been kidnapped twice. People keep latching onto him.”

I spin on my heel, facing my mother who sits behind her desk, her posture perfect as always. Her face is a mask of calm, but I can see the concern in her eyes.

I continue, the words tumbling out in a rush. “I barely feel like he’s safe right now despite being only down the hall. He won’t even leave the house to go to school.” I pause, taking a shuddering breath. “Mom, we’re going to fail.”

“Erica, darling,” she begins, her tone gentle but firm. “You need to take a deep breath and slow down. Panicking isn’t going to help Jason, and it certainly isn’t going to help you.”

I open my mouth to protest, but Mom holds up a hand, silencing . “I understand your concerns. What you and Jason have been through is traumatic, and it’s natural to feel overwheld. But you’re stronger than this, Erica. You’re a Knight.”

I feel my composure crumbling, tears welling up in my eyes as the full weight of my failure crashes down on . “Mom,” I choke out, “I promised to protect him. I swore I’d keep him safe.” My hands clench into fists at my sides, nails digging painfully into my palms. “But he’s been raped by four people. Four! And I couldn’t stop it.”

“The only option I’m seeing,” I continue, my voice growing hollow, “is to clean up the basent and lock him down there. At least then I’d know where he is, know that no one could hurt him.”

Mom sighs, long and deep, the sound filled with a weariness I’ve never heard from her before. “Oh, Erica,” she says, her voice soft and tinged with sothing that might be regret. “You really are just like your grandmother.”

I whirl around, my eyes wide with surprise. “What?”

But Mom just shakes her head, a sad smile playing at the corners of her lips. “It’s not important,” she says, waving a hand dismissively. “What matters now is Jason’s well-being and yours.”

“So what do I do?” I asked, desperation creeping into my voice.

Mom stands, moving around the desk to stand before . She places her hands on my shoulders, her touch grounding in a way nothing else has. “After the wedding,” she says slowly, carefully choosing each word, “you can lock him up if you truly believe it’s necessary.”

My heart leaps at her words, a surge of relief washing over . But it’s short-lived as I see the sadness deepening in my mother’s eyes.

“But Erica,” Mom continues, her voice gentle but firm, “he deserves to be free until he becos a Knight. You owe him that much.”

I stare at my mother, my mind reeling. The idea of waiting until after the wedding in August to lock Jason up feels like an eternity. Every mont he’s not in my sight, not under my protection, is a mont where sothing terrible could happen.

“But Mom,” I protest, my voice rising in pitch, “you don’t understand. Jason probably wants to be locked up more than I want to do it. He could heal quicker there.”

I begin pacing again, my words tumbling out in a frantic rush. “We would make it comfortable, you know? Like a little apartnt. Soft lighting, plush carpets, a big TV. He loves video gas. We would set up all systems down there. And his laptop! He could still use the internet. Maybe just a little parental blocking…. Or maybe no internet, I don’t know.”

My mind races with possibilities, painting a picture of a gilded cage. “We could install a treadmill, maybe so weights. Keep him healthy. And I’d be there all the ti, of course. We could have movie nights and cuddle on a big, soft couch. It would be like a permanent slumber party, just the two of us.”

I spin to face my mother, my eyes wide and pleading. “Don’t you see? It would be perfect. He’d be safe, and I’d never have to worry again.”

Mom’s expression is a mixture of sympathy and resignation. “I know, darling,” she says softly. “I know you believe that’s what he wants.”

I deflate slightly, the manic energy draining out of as my thoughts shift. “Granted, he once said to he was excited to graduate. I have no idea how I could even convince him to go to school at this point.”

To my surprise, Mom scoffs dismissively. “School?” she says, waving a hand. “Erica, darling, you’re a Knight. Even if you or Jason don’t attend another day, I’ll see to it that you both walk at graduation. Don’t worry about such trivial matters.”

I nod slowly, feeling a weight lift off my shoulders. At least that’s one less thing to worry about. But the larger issue still looms, heavy and oppressive.

Mom shakes her head, a hint of frustration creeping into her voice. “The truth is, Erica, I don’t know what Jason needs to heal right now. Trauma like this... it’s complex. There’s no easy fix, no magic solution.” She looks at intently, her gaze softening. “All you can do is be there for him. Support him, love him, and give him the space to process and heal in his own way.”

I nod slowly, absorbing my mother’s words. “I know,” I sigh, feeling the weight of responsibility settles heavily on my shoulders. My fingers curl into tight fists at my sides, nails digging crescents into my palms as thoughts of Tessa flood my mind. The rage that’s been simring just beneath the surface threatens to boil over, and I struggle to keep my composure.

Mom must sense the shift in my mood because she steps closer, her brow furrowed with concern. “Erica,” she says softly, her voice cutting through the haze of my thoughts, “what’s going on with Tessa? Have you heard anything?”

I turn back to face her, my expression dark. “Alia still hasn’t found her yet,” I reply, my voice tight with frustration. “It’s like she’s vanished into thin air.”

Mom nods, her eyes narrowing slightly. “It’s only a matter of ti,” she says, her tone confident and reassuring. “No one can hide forever, especially not from us.”

I nod, but I can feel the annoyance bubbling up inside . Every mont Tessa remains free is another mont she’s gotten away with hurting Jason. Every second that passes without her facing justice is a second too long. The urge to hunt her down myself, to make her pay for what she’s done, is almost overwhelming.

*****

I stride down the hallway, my heels clicking rhythmically against the polished hardwood floors. The sound echoes off the high ceilings, a steady beat that matches the pounding of my heart. As I approach my bedroom, a frown creases on my brow. The door is ajar, a sliver of warm light spilling out into the dimly lit corridor. I’m certain I closed it when I left to speak with my mother.

My pace quickens, anxiety coiling in my stomach like a nest of vipers. As I draw closer, I can hear a soft voice drifting through the gap. It’s soothing but unmistakably feminine.

I push the door open wider. The scene before unfolds like a sketch, both comforting and slightly irritating.

Brooke sits on the edge of the bed, her brown hair falling in soft waves around her face. Her hand moves in slow, gentle circles on Jason’s back, her touch clearly ant to comfort. Jason is hunched over, his shoulders slumped in a posture of defeat that makes my heart ache. His eyes are fixed on the plush carpet, unseeing, lost in whatever dark thoughts plague him.

I feel a flash of annoyance at Brooke’s presence. This is my room, my space with Jason. But I quickly tamp it down, reminding myself that Brooke is family and that she loves Jason, too. If her presence brings him any asure of comfort, I can swallow my possessiveness for his sake just this once. At least until Jason get’s through this.

“What’s up?” I ask, keeping my voice deliberately calm and steady. I don’t want to startle Jason or make him feel like he’s done sothing wrong by seeking comfort from his sister.

As I step into the room, Jason’s head snaps up, his eyes locking onto mine. The change in his deanor is instantaneous and breathtaking. The dull, haunted look that had clouded his gaze monts ago vanishes, replaced by a spark of life that makes my heart soar. His entire face lights up, a smile breaking across his features like the sun erging from behind storm clouds.

“Erica!” he exclaims, his voice filled with a mixture of relief and joy. “You’re back already? I thought you’d be gone much longer.”

I can’t help but smile in return, warmth spreading through my chest at his reaction. “I couldn’t stay away,” I say softly, moving to sit beside him on the bed. The mattress dips slightly under my weight, and Jason imdiately leans into , seeking contact.

I wrap an arm around his shoulders, pulling him close. I feel so of the tension drain from my body. This is where I belong, where we both belong.

Brooke clears her throat softly, reminding of her presence. I look up, eting her eyes. There’s sothing in her gaze, a flicker of... sothing. Nervousness? Determination? It’s gone before I can really place it.

“Hi, Erica,” she says, her voice carefully neutral.

I nod in acknowledgnt. “What’s up, Brooke?”

She shifts her weight from one foot to the other, her hands fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. “I, uh... I need to talk to you,” she says, her voice dropping to almost a whisper. “In private, if that’s okay.”

My eyebrow shoots up in surprise. Brooke has never asked to speak to alone before.

“Of course,” I say, keeping my voice light and casual for Jason’s sake. I turn to him, pressing a soft kiss on his forehead. “We’ll be right back, okay, love?”

Jason nods, his eyes already heavy with exhaustion. “Okay,” he murmurs, settling back onto the bed. “I think I’ll just rest for a bit.”

I stand, following Brooke out into the hallway. As I pull the door shut behind us, I catch one last glimpse of Jason curled up on the bed. The sight makes my heart clench with a mixture of love and protectiveness.

As the door clicks shut behind us, I turn to face Brooke. The hallway suddenly feels too small, the air thick with tension. Brooke’s eyes are wide, a mixture of excitent and nervousness dancing in their hazel depths. She leans in close, her voice barely above a whisper as she speaks.

“I think I found Tessa.”

The words hit like a physical blow, sending a jolt of electricity through my body. “Huh?” I manage to choke out, my mind reeling with the implications.

Brooke takes a deep breath, her words coming out in a rushed, hushed torrent. “I contacted Tessa a week ago. I’ve been pretending to be an ally, soone who sympathizes with her situation. It wasn’t easy, but I managed to gain her trust.”

“Holy shit,” I whisper, my heart pounding so loudly I’m sure Brooke can hear it. The possibility of finally finding Tessa and ripping all her skin off, sends a heady rush of adrenaline coursing through my veins.

Brooke fumbles with her phone, her fingers flying across the screen. “I’ll send you it right now. The location tracking data.” She looks up at , her eyes blazing with determination. “She’s sowhere in California. I’ve narrowed it down to a specific area.”

I stare at Brooke, truly seeing her for perhaps the first ti. Gone is the timid, jealous girl I’ve known. In her place stands a woman of steel, her jaw set with resolve.

Brooke fumbles with her phone, her fingers flying across the screen. She turns it towards , revealing a series of ssages between her and Tessa. My eyes scan the conversation, drinking in every detail. There, in black and white, is the information we’ve been desperately seeking Tessa’s location.

“She’s in a small town just outside of Los Angeles,” Brooke whispers.”

I stare at Brooke, a mixture of emotions swirling within . Gratitude, excitent, and a dark thrill of anticipation war for dominance. My lips curl into a slow, predatory smile as I process the information she’s just handed .

“You’ll take care of it, right?” Brooke asks. Her eyes are wide, a complex blend of emotions swimming in their hazel depths.

I study her face carefully, searching for any sign of hesitation or doubt. “You know what you’re asking, right?” I say softly, my voice low and intense. “You understand exactly what this ans?”

Brooke swallows hard, her throat bobbing visibly. For a mont, I think I see a flicker of uncertainty cross her features. But then her jaw sets, a steely resolve settling over her like a cloak. She ets my gaze unflinchingly, her chin lifted in defiance.

“I know exactly what I’m saying,” she replies, her voice steady and sure. “What she did to Jason... she deserves whatever’s coming to her.”

At this mont, I realize I’ve underestimated Brooke. “Brooke,” I say softly, a slow smile spreading across my face, “maybe you’re not so bad after all.”

She blinks, surprise flickering across her features before a tentative smile tugs at the corners of her mouth. “Thanks, I think,” she replies, a hint of dry humor in her voice.

With a final nod of understanding, I turn back to the bedroom door. My hand rests on the polished knob for a mont as I take a deep breath, centering myself. The weight of what’s to co settles on my shoulders, but it’s a burden I’m more than willing to bear.

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