Page 8 of Forbidden Harvest

“Jared, are you alright?” Elaine’s gaze locks on me.

I blink, feigning surprise. “Yeah, sorry. Just thinking about Aaron.”

“Of course,” she says, patting my hand. “It must be hard, losing a classmate like that.”

If only she knew. I’m not mourning. I’m fucking celebrating.

“It’s okay to be upset,” Dad adds. “These things are never easy to process.”

Dad knows I don’t process stuff like normal kids do. I’ve been diagnosed with a personality disorder since I came to live withhim, and I’m on meds for it, so why he thinks I’d be upset, I don’t know. Emotions are just different for me.

I nod. “Yeah, it’s just... shocking, you know?”

They buy it. Hook, line, and sinker.

As they talk, I think back to that night—the satisfying crunch as Aaron’s body hit the ground, the rush of power I felt.

I feel no remorse. Aaron crossed a line. He put his dirty fucking mouth on what is mine.

“Has anyone checked on Aria?” Dad asks.

“I’ll check on her,” I say. “I’ll even take her some food.”

Elaine’s eyes narrow. “Will you be kind to her, Jared? She’s going through a lot right now.”

I put on my most convincing smile. “Absolutely. We haven’t always gotten along, but I want to be there for her. She needs support right now.”

Elaine’s expression softens. It’s almost too easy.

“That’s very thoughtful of you, Jared,” she says warmly.

I stand, grabbing a clean plate from the cabinet. As I pile on some lasagna, my mind races with possibilities.

Aaron’s out of the picture now. Permanently. No more competition, no more distractions for Aria. It’s perfect.

The weight of the plate in my hands feels like victory as I climb the stairs. Each step brings me closer to Aria, and I can’t help but think of the future I’ve been planning. Once we’re both adults, once I can finally claim her without interference, it’ll all be worth it.

I pause outside Aria’s door, listening. There’s no sound from inside.

Knocking softly, I call out, “Aria? It’s me. I brought you some dinner.”

After a moment, I hear a quiet, “Come in.”

I enter Aria’s room, balancing the plate. She’s curled up on her bed, a small, fragile figure huddled beneath her comforter. My heart skips a beat when I see her, vulnerable and beautiful.

“Hey,” I say softly. “I thought you might be hungry.”

Aria lifts her head, her eyes red-rimmed and puffy from crying. She looks at me, then at the plate, before nodding.

I place the food on her nightstand and sit on the edge of her bed. The urge to reach out and touch her is overwhelming, but I resist. I can’t risk scaring her away. Not now.

“How are you holding up?” I ask.

Aria shrugs. “I don’t know. It doesn’t feel real.”

I nod. “I know. It’s... it’s a lot to process.”

She searches my face. “Were you there? Did you see what happened?”

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