Whitney’s face went blank the second she read the words on the fogged glass. All the color drained from her skin, like soone had pulled a plug.
Her eyes stayed wide, stuck on my writing like it might change if she blinked.
"How can this be?" she whispered. "I saw Elena... I saw her "
I touched my throat to show her the truth.
No voice.
No sound.
Then I lifted my finger and wrote again on the foggy mirror, slow so she wouldn’t misunderstand.
I have been reborn.
Whitney’s brows pulled together. I watched the thoughts click into place one by one, like a door unlocking in her head.
"...Are you Riley?"
I nodded.
Just once.
That was all it took.
Whitney grabbed and held on like she was afraid I would disappear if she loosened her arms. Her body shook against mine.
"Elena," she cried into my shoulder, her words breaking, "I’m so sorry. I couldn’t protect you. I had to watch those monsters... I had to watch what they did to your body..."
Her voice cracked, and she couldn’t finish.
My chest tightened until it hurt.
So I was right.
Vito didn’t only want revenge on . He wanted to destroy everything around too. He wanted Whitney to see it all, to live with it, to carry it like a curse under her skin.
That was why she couldn’t sleep.
That was why she looked like a person who had been drowning for years, forced to keep breathing anyway.
I wanted to cry with her, but my makeup was still on, and I couldn’t afford to look ssy. Not here. Not in this house of eyes and traps.
So I swallowed my tears and patted her back, steady and slow, like I was trying to calm a frightened animal without making noise.
I’m here.
I’m real.
I’m not leaving you.
Whitney cried until her shoulders finally lowered and her breathing slowed. When she pulled back, her lashes were wet and stuck together.
"What happened to your voice?" she asked, voice rough.
I grabbed a notepad and wrote one na.
Yael.
Whitney’s expression twisted. Hate flashed across her face so fast it almost scared .
"Those brothers..." she hissed. "Elena, I dream of killing them. I dream of tearing them apart."
I flinched, but I understood her. There was sothing in too sothing old and sharp that wanted the sa thing.
I asked her questions the only way I could: quick scribbles, gestures, a pointed look.
Whitney gave the rough version of the story. It matched what I already suspected.
At first, Vito punished her like she was nothing. Then, sowhere along the way, his obsession shifted. It turned into that sick kind of "love" n like him called love.
He wanted to bond her to him.
He wanted a future.
Children.
A life she never chose.
"I hate that madman," Whitney said, her voice full of poison. "How could I ever carry his child?"
My stomach turned.
I wrote another na on the paper.
Amber. Do you know her?
Whitney nodded imdiately. Her lips parted like she was about to explain
A knock cut through the room.
Both of us froze.
Vito’s voice ca from outside, too calm, too casual. "Whitney, are you done? The car’s here. Weather’s perfect. Good day for wedding photos."
Right.
Today was their photoshoot.
My pulse jumped.
I looked at Whitney and lifted my brows, silently begging her to play along. Please. Please don’t let him hear anything in your voice.
Whitney’s face went cold again, like she slid a mask back on. "Five more minutes."
"Okay," Vito replied, no hesitation. "I’ll wait outside."
The mont his steps faded, Whitney moved fast. She rinsed quickly, like she was afraid he was still right behind the door, listening through the crack.
Neither of us spoke.
I wrote one question, quick and ssy.
Janice gave you a phone. Where is it?
Whitney opened a cabinet and pulled out a box of skincare. Under it, hidden like a secret, was a phone wrapped in tissue.
She pressed it into my hand and whispered, "Don’t use it here. The signal will expose it."
My heart almost stopped.
So that was why Riley never heard from her. She wasn’t ignoring her.
She was surviving.
And now, the timing was perfect. They were leaving the house for an outdoor shoot.
That ant one thing.
I could reach Lewis.
I tucked the phone into my clothes carefully, keeping my face blank. Inside, I was shaking so hard it felt like my bones were rattling.
I helped Whitney get dressed quickly and fixed her hair the way she liked, gentle and neat, like we were just two won getting ready for a normal day.
When we stepped out, Vito was waiting at the doorway with a cigarette. Smoke curled around his fingers.
His gaze landed on Whitney’s tear-streaked face. His brows knit like he was worried.
He killed the cigarette and pulled her closer, stroking her cheek like she belonged to him. "Why are you crying again?" he asked softly.
Whitney didn’t answer.
She didn’t pull away either.
She just stood there with dead eyes, letting him pretend.
I stayed behind them, head lowered, acting small. Silent. Harmless.
Just as they were about to step into the car, Vito glanced at . His voice snapped cold.
"You’re staying here."
My stomach dropped.
Whitney spoke imdiately, firm and flat. "I want Mute Girl with ."
Vito studied her for a mont. He looked like he wanted to refuse, but then his jaw flexed and he gave in.
"Fine," he said. "But she rides in a different car."
Relief hit so hard I almost swayed.
Then Yael appeared, like he’d been waiting for this mont. His eyes slid over , sharp and knowing.
"Get in my car," he ordered.
Vito frowned. Suspicion flickered. "Why are you coming to my wedding shoot?"
Yael smiled like it was funny. "To observe. I’ll need tips when it’s my turn."
Vito’s eyes moved between us, trying to read what wasn’t being said.
I kept my gaze down.
Yael opened the driver’s door and got in. When I reached for the back seat, he smirked.
"What, do I look like your chauffeur?"
I forced myself into the front seat.
As I clicked my seatbelt, my eyes slipped sideways for one second.
Vito was staring at .
Not casually.
Not briefly.
Like he’d been watching the entire ti.
My skin went cold.
Yael rolled up the window, calm as ever. "Let’s go."
My palms were slick with sweat. In this whole house, Yael was the only one who wouldn’t kill instantly if my identity ca out.
Everyone else?
They wouldn’t blink.
"Elena," Yael said, like he could sll fear on . "You’re anxious."
Then he reached over and ssed up my hair like I was a child. "Sorry. I forgot you can’t speak."
I tapped the glass and pointed behind him, trying to tell him I felt Vito’s eyes.
Yael’s tone stayed light, but his words weren’t. "You think my brother has figured you out? It’s possible. He’s always been sharp."
My stomach tightened.
He glanced at . "Relax. As long as it’s not her... even if he realizes who you are, he won’t kill you."
Her.
Amber.
I swallowed hard. Whitney hadn’t had ti to explain. Not with Vito at the door, not with the caras, not with ti dripping away.
The shoot was by the sea. The place was too empty. No random couples. No strangers. Just their people, their cars, their watchful faces.
I stayed close to Whitney and kept moving, busying myself with anything I could fixing her veil, holding a brush, passing water. Vito changed outfits and sat for makeup, distracted by himself, which gave small pockets of air.
After a while, Yael walked over and handed a bottle of water.
I pointed, asking where the restroom was.
"I’ll escort you," he said.
I nodded.
Right before I stepped inside, he leaned close and whispered, low enough for only to hear.
"Don’t even think about running. Everyone here answers to ."
As if I didn’t already know.
The restroom stall had no windows. No door to the outside. Just walls and silence. That was why he let go in alone.
My heart was pounding so hard it felt like it could give away.
I pulled the phone out with shaking hands and powered it on.
The screen lit up.
Full battery.
Whitney hadn’t used it.
Good.
Every second felt too loud. Too slow. Like the air itself was listening.
My fingers moved fast.
I punched in Lewis’s number from mory, praying I wouldn’t ss it up. I’d seen it only twice, but I held onto it like a lifeline.
Please.
Pick up.
Please.
The call connected.
So fast it almost didn’t feel real.
And then I heard it
His voice.
"Hello?"
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