Chapter 389

Fuck... she’d been through hell. Both of them had. And suddenly, everything about Cora made sense. The walls. The paranoia. The constant vigilance.

"You’re strong," I said softly, pulling back just enough to look at her. "You really are. And you don’t get to blame yourself for surviving."

"I would always sleep when he was home," she choked out. "I didn’t want him to—my mother... she—when I... they’re..."

"Ssh." I pulled her back into a hug. "It’s okay. You’re safe now. I won’t let anyone hurt you. Ever."

She nodded weakly. "Mm..."

Knowing all this made me feel like an asshole for even thinking about crossing lines before. No wonder she didn’t trust men.

"Thank you," she whispered at last. "For listening."

I nudged her shoulder lightly. "Told you. Good listener."

"Mm."

"Come on," I said gently. "Let’s head back in. Your sister’s probably worried sick."

"Y-yeah." Then, unexpectedly, she linked her arm with mine. "Let’s go."

I blinked—then smiled.

"Yeah."

We went back inside together, the warmth and noise of the place folding around us again like nothing had happened.

My phone buzzed in my pocket the second we reached the table. I didn’t need to look to know who it was—but I did anyway. It was Carrie... ’Are you coming?’

That was it. No emoji. No pressure. Just those two words sitting there, heavy. I locked my phone and slid it back into my pocket without replying. Not tonight.

I pulled my chair out and sat beside Esme again. Cora immediately leaned forward, eyes sharp, scanning her sister’s face.

"Are you okay?" she asked quietly.

Esme nodded, then tilted her head and added, deadpan, "I’d be better if I had a teddy bear right now, sis."

"Oh my god, shut up," Cora groaned, covering part of her face with her hand.

I laughed before I could stop myself.

Esme shot me a look. "You’re not helping."

A waiter approached then, dressed head-to-toe like he’d stepped out of some fantasy tavern—loose shirt, leather vest, boots that looked intentionally worn. He gathered the empty glasses with a polite nod.

"Anything else for the table?" he asked.

"I’ll take a tea," I said. "Whatever’s warmest."

"Mocha," Cora added after a second. "Please."

Esme yawned mid-sentence. "Uh... chamomile. If you have it."

The waiter nodded, smiling. "Coming right up."

As he walked away, I leaned back slightly and let my eyes drift to Cora.

And... yeah. My thoughts went there again. Cora killed her parents.

The words didn’t sit right in my head. Not because I doubted Esme—but because I could suddenly see the shape of it. The weight of it. The way it must’ve hollowed Cora out from the inside and rebuilt her into what she was now.

Protective. Sharp. Always ready.

I swallowed and shook my head once. Not my business.

Whatever happened back then, it wasn’t my place to judge it. If anything... it made sense why she held Esme so close. Why she barely let anyone else in.

The night rolled on anyway, like it always did.

We talked. About dumb stuff, mostly.

Esme complained about her feet hurting from standing too long earlier. Cora teased her for nearly falling asleep at the table. I chimed in now and then, steering things away from anything heavy.

The drinks arrived.

Steam curled up from my tea as I wrapped my hands around the cup. Cora took careful sips of her mocha, still visibly shy in the crowded space. Esme drank her chamomile like it was medicine, shoulders finally relaxing.

At some point, Esme leaned her head against the back of the chair and sighed.

"This place is... kinda nice," she admitted.

"See?" I said. "Didn’t die."

"Yet," Cora replied dryly.

I smiled into my cup.

People passed by our table—cosplayers, couples, groups laughing too loud. Every now and then someone glanced our way, especially at the girls’ outfits, but no one bothered us again.

And that was good.

I checked my phone once more, out of habit. No new messages. Carrie would wait. Or she wouldn’t. Either way, tonight wasn’t about her.

It was about sitting here, drinking overpriced tea in a fake tavern, listening to two sisters bicker softly while snow threatened outside. It wasn’t loud fun. It wasn’t dramatic. But it was... calm. And honestly? I needed that more than anything.

❤︎‬‪‪❤︎‬‪‪❤︎

The clock on my phone read a little past eleven when I finally got home.

I unlocked the door, stepped inside, and shut it behind me with a quiet click. The penthouse was dim and still, that late-night calm settling in like a blanket. My shoulders dropped the second I kicked my shoes off.

First stop was the common bathroom.

I flicked the light on, leaned over the sink, and washed my hands, then my face. Cold water. A long exhale. God, I was tired. Not the bad kind—just the kind that came after too much being around people. I dried off, shut the light, and stepped back into the hallway.

That’s when Mik appeared. Right in front of me. Silent as a ghost. She looked up, tail flicking once, and let out a soft, demanding meow.

I smiled despite myself, bending down. "Hey, menace."

I scratched under her chin and between her ears. She immediately leaned into it like I owed her money.

"Yeah, yeah," I murmured. "I missed you too."

Satisfied, for now, she trotted off, and I headed toward my bedroom. But halfway there, I noticed the light bleeding out from under Tessa’s door.

Still awake. I hesitated for half a second, then knocked lightly.

"Evan?" Her voice came through, quiet but clear. "Come in."

I opened the door.

Tessa was sitting at one of those vanity setups—the kind with a mirror framed by soft lights, a small stool, and a tabletop cluttered with bottles, tubes, and jars I didn’t even pretend to understand. She had some kind of pale green mask smeared over her face, carefully applying it with her fingers while watching herself in the mirror.

She glanced at me through the reflection. "Hey."

I closed the door behind me. "Thought you’d be asleep."

"I haven’t done any facial care since I moved into this penthouse," she said. "Decided it was time."

I snorted. "Ah. That explains why you’ve been looking horrible."

She didn’t even turn. "I’m going to shove this entire bed up your ass, Evan."

"Sorry, sorry," I laughed, dropping onto the edge of her bed and letting out another long breath. "How’s Mik?"

"I fed her. Bathed her," she said flatly. "She stretched me."

"Oof," I winced. "Cats don’t like baths."

"Yeppers."

She kept working the mask in, occasionally tilting her head or checking her jawline. I watched her for a second, then leaned back on my hands.

"Took Cora and Esme to that anime thing," I said.

Her fingers paused. "Oh?"

"Yeah. Last minute chaos. They actually did okay."

Tessa hummed. "Cora didn’t panic?"

"She did," I said. "But, like... quietly."

That got a soft chuckle out of her. "And Esme?"

"Tired. Grumpy. Wanted a teddy bear five minutes in."

"Teddy bear? Hey, I also want one."

"Oh?"

"I’ll put your photo onto its head and punch it when I’m angry."

"Ah... right."

"So, tell me. What happened at the ’anime thing?’"

I told her about the themed café, the quiz we absolutely bombed, the awkward conversations, the snow starting to fall outside. She asked questions in between applying whatever came next—some serum, judging by the dropper.

"Anyone bother them?" she asked.

"Yeah," I admitted. "I handled it."

Her eyes flicked up in the mirror, sharper now. "Good."

We fell quiet after that. Just the soft hum of the room, the faint clink of glass as she set one bottle down and reached for another.

Then, casually, "Did you go see Carrie today?"

"Nope."

"Huh." She tilted her head, inspecting her reflection. "Kim really wants to go with you, you know. She talked my ears off because I told you what she actually wanted."

"Yeah. Poor you."

"Will you take her next time?" Tessa turned on the stool to face me fully now, elbows resting on her knees. "Fuck, I’d like to watch too. I wanna see that bitch suffer."

I lifted a brow. "Hey. There’s nothing non-consensual between me and Carrie."

She scoffed. "You put her little boy beyond bars and now she’s wet for you. I swear, some rich people."

"Fuck, right?"

She studied me for a moment, something unreadable in her eyes. Then her expression softened just a little.

"Hey," she said. "Come to my room sometimes. I won’t say no to some talking. Company."

"You’re making me blush, Tessy."

"Tessy?" She pointed at the door. "Okay. Enough. Get the fuck out. I’m taking a bath and going to sleep."

"What, you don’t accept visitors during your bath?" I grinned. "Could be... educational."

She smirked and flipped me off. "Get the fuck out, cowboy."

"Fine, fine. I tried my shot."

I stood, stepped closer, and kissed her cheek. Immediately pulled back.

"Ew. What is that stench?"

"The mask, idiot."

"Oh fuck," I gagged theatrically. "I’m gonna puke."

"Go puke elsewhere."

"Blergh."

I backed toward the door, waving as I opened it. She shook her head, lips curling into an annoyed smile, and the door shut between us.

I headed down the hallway, the penthouse quiet again.

Yeah.

Long day.