A quiet creak startled her. Her breath hitched as she snapped her head toward the door. Aaron had returned. His mask obscured his face, but his gaze flicked toward her.

"You're still awake." His voice was flat, as if he already knew.

Elicia swallowed and sat up slightly, pulling the blanket tighter around her shoulders. She didn’t respond.

Aaron let out a slow breath and pushed himself off the wall. He walked to the small wooden table beside the bed, setting a glass of water down with a quiet clink.
"Drink," he said. "You need it."

She hesitated, staring at the water like it might turn to poison the moment she touched it.
Aaron didn’t press her. He just stood there, watching, waiting.

After a long pause, she reached out, her fingers brushing the cool surface of the glass.

When he didn’t move, didn’t suddenly change his mind and rip it from her hands, she carefully lifted it to her lips and took a sip.

The water was fresh, clean.
It tasted strange.

She set the glass down, her fingers trembling slightly.

Aaron remained silent. Then, after a moment, he spoke again.
"Gabriel is still alive."

The words sent a violent shiver down her spine.
Of course, he was.
Her grip on the glass tightened, her pulse quickening.

"He’s looking for you," Aaron continued. "And he won’t stop until he finds you."

Her stomach twisted.
She had known this.
Gabriel never let go of what he owned.
She could already hear his voice in her head, that slow, venomous drawl. You really thought you could leave me?

Aaron sighed, dragging a gloved hand down his mask. “I should’ve killed him that night.”

Elicia’s breath caught in her throat.
She lifted her gaze, eyes wide.
He said it so casually. Like it was nothing. Like Gabriel’s life was something he could take without a second thought.

"You—" she swallowed. "You killed them all, didn’t you?"

Aaron didn’t answer.
But he didn’t need to.

She lowered her gaze, her heartbeat pounding in her ears.
The men who had hurt her. The ones who had touched her, whispered cruel things, laughed at her suffering—they were gone now.

Gone.

She should’ve felt something.
Relief. Fear. Something.

But she didn’t know what to feel anymore.
Her fingers curled into the fabric of her sleeves. “Then why did you take me?”

Aaron exhaled, slow and measured. “You were just there.”

Just there.
Like an afterthought.

Her stomach twisted. She let out a bitter, empty laugh. "So what happens now?"

Aaron tilted his head slightly. "You stay here."

She blinked. "...Here?"

"For now." He shrugged. "Until I figure out what to do with you."

Her breath hitched.
What to do with her.

Like she was a problem. A burden.
She should’ve expected that. She was a burden.

Her hands clenched into fists, nails digging into her palms.

Aaron watched her for a moment before speaking again. "Come to the kitchen."

Elicia frowned. "What?"

He motioned toward the door. "It’s dinnertime. You should eat something."

She stiffened. "I already ate earlier."

"And?"

She hesitated.

Aaron didn’t seem like the type to care whether she ate or not, yet here he was, asking.

No. Not asking. Telling.
She didn’t move.

Aaron sighed, stepping closer. "If you don’t want to eat, suit yourself," he said. "But you’re not staying in this room all night."

Her breath caught. "I—I don’t understand. Why—"

"Because you’ve been in a cage long enough."

Her chest tightened.
She gritted her teeth, gripping the blanket beneath her. "I don’t—"

"Get up." His voice was firm, but not unkind. "You don’t have to eat if you don’t want to. Just sit at the table."

Elicia hesitated, her entire body screaming at her to refuse. To stay in this room where it was safe. Where no one could see her.

But something about Aaron’s tone—his certainty—made her move.

Slowly, cautiously, she swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood.

Her legs wobbled.

She hadn't stood properly in so long.
Aaron didn’t offer to help, didn’t rush forward to steady her. He just watched, waiting to see if she could manage on her own.

She forced herself to stay upright, inhaling shakily.

Aaron nodded slightly and turned toward the door. "Come."

He walked out without waiting for her.
Elicia stared at the open doorway, her heartbeat hammering in her chest.

She could stay.
She could crawl back into bed and pretend this never happened.

But something in her—something weak, something desperate—made her step forward.

One step.

Then another.

She followed him.

And for the first time in years… she left the room.