Chapter 210-2
Nook back into the immaculate, sterile white room.
+25 Point
Pointe
Why would heavily-pregnant Becca, who left expensive clothes, furniture, and personal items
strewn frantically across every other room in this sprawling home, spend hours on her knees
scrubbing a single bathroom with industrial chemical bleach until the grout was stripped raw?
If she was packing to flee Knox’s debt and the fallout of his death, every minute mattered. She
wouldn’t waste precious time cleaning unless she was desperate to hide something. Something
terrible.
“Willow is right,” I say softly. “It doesn’t matter if there’s no blood on the floor. Something terrible happened in this room. Something we aren’t meant to understand, and something I have no desire
to investigate.”
Willow pulls away from my arm, taking a step back toward the bedroom, her voice shaking with absolute, unyielding conviction as she looks at me through her tears.
“I can’t live here, Zara,” Willow says. “I can’t build a studio here. I can’t bring people into this house for workshops or healing. I can’t even stay under this roof for another minute. I’m sorry… but I can’t live here. Nobody should live here.”
I look at Willow, my heart breaking for her distress, but her words strike a deep, immediate chord within me. The desire to salvage this place, to turn it into something good for Willow, vanishes instantly, replaced by a sudden, crystal-clear certainty:
She’s right. This house isn’t a home, and it never will be.
“Don’t apologize, Willow,” I say softly. “You’re entirely right.”
“We’re done here,” Locke says, stepping out of the bathroom and pulling the doors firmly shut until the latch clicks into place. The sound is sharp, definitive, a mechanical line drawn between us and whatever dark memories linger inside. “Let’s go.”
Locke wraps one massive arm around my waist and places his other hand on Willow’s shoulder, guiding us both firmly out of the master suite and back into the central corridor. We walk down the
grand marble staircase, leaving the quiet, hollow shell of the house behind us.
When we reach the front foyer, I stop at the door. I look back one final time at the chandelier hanging in the high ceiling, at the living room where I spent four long years feeling trapped.
“Goodbye, Knox,” I say into the empty house. “I don’t know if you’re somehow sticking around here, but it’s all yours.”
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Chapter 210-2
པྱད་
+25 Points
Locke pulls the heavy mahogany front door shut. The lock turns with a solid, heavy thud. He locks the deadbolt, pulls the keys from the lock, and drops the key ring into my palm.
walk down the wide stone steps together. Locke holds the passenger door open for me before helping Willow into the back seat. He climbs into the driver’s seat and turns the key, the V8 engine roaring to life with a deep, powerful rumble that grounds us all.
As the truck backs out of the circular driveway and heads toward the gates, I look over at Locke.
“I’m calling Phillip Meade first thing tomorrow morning,” I say. “I’m telling him to list the house on the market immediately. I don’t care about getting top dollar, he can price it to just sell. The moment the funds clear, every single cent goes straight into the trust for the addiction programs.”,
“I’ll make sure Meade expedites the paperwork,” Locke says. “It’ll be out of your name before the
month is over.”
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