Page 35 of Peak Cruelty

“I’m not going to be just a footnote in your life,” she says.“Whatever story you think you’re writing—I won’t be the part you forget.”

I shrug and then stand.Let the silence work.Let her feel the weight of having no one to argue with.

She doesn’t ask how long she has.Smart.

I reach the door.Rest my hand on the frame.

“You’ve got one decision left.Make it count.”

“Wow, you really rehearse this stuff.”

“Sounds like you prefer pain.That’s fine.But just so you know—it’s not going to be the kind you’re used to.It won’t be pretty or marketable.Definitely not the kind that photographs well.”

I can see that she wants to say something cruel.Something she thinks will make me bleed a little on the inside.

But she doesn’t.

Because she’s not trying to win.

She’s trying to survive.

So she says the thing she thinks will throw me off just enough.

“You sound like you’ve been waiting your whole life to say that.”

For a second, I go still.It’s rare I’m surprised anymore.

Then—I smile.

But there’s nothing behind it.

Just teeth.

I turn and walk out.

No slam.No lock.

Just her.The pills.The only mercy she’s going to get.

18

Marlowe

Istare at the pills for exactly one second.

Not because I’m tempted.But because if he’s watching, I want him to see it.

They’re perfectly placed, of course.Two white capsules centered like a goddamn choice.Like I’m a problem that easily solved.

I give them a full five seconds of consideration.Then I tip my head back, let my mouth fall open, and go completely still.

No twitch.No breath catch.Just slack limbs and the deadest expression I can manage.

It takes effort.Which is ironic.

I count to forty.Then sixty.Then I stop counting altogether.Because that’s how real death works, isn’t it?Eventually the numbers don’t matter.

He doesn’t return right away.In fact, I’m pretty sure I actually do fall asleep.Maybe for hours.I hear the shift before I see him—the sound of his shoes on the floor, the breath he holds just a little too long when he enters the room.

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