Page 77 of Broken By Silence
I pull the little pouch from my pocket. Super fine silver glitter. The expensive kind. It’s practically microscopic, so it won’t even show up until it’s too late. I open the first door—Crew’s—and tiptoe in. His bathroom smells like mint and something aggressively male.
“Sorry, baby,” I whisper to his shampoo bottle, “but this is what you get for stealing my snacks and calling me ‘Tiny Terror.’”
A careful twist of the cap. A slow pour. Just enough glitter to turn him into a disco ball when the light hits. I shake the bottle gently, cap it again, and put it back exactly where it was.
Then Roman’s bathroom. His stuff is too neat, like a serial killer’s. Everything aligned, symmetrical. I mess nothing up—just a sprinkle of silver chaos into his fancy cedar-scented shower gel.
Finally, Elijah’s. His shower smells like sharp citrus and arrogance. I grin, unscrewing the cap.
Once the job’s done, I seal everything back up and tiptoe out, silent and satisfied.
I barely make it back to the kitchen before the gym door opens and heavy footsteps echo down the hall.
The guys stumble in, drenched in sweat, shirts half-off, laughing about something stupid Crew probably said. They grab water bottles, still dripping.
I keep my face innocent as I mix cookie dough, humming to myself while Claire, Archer, and Oscar gather around the island. Will’s there too, arms folded, pretending to read something on his phone but absolutely watching everything.
“Morning, sunshine,” Crew says, grabbing a towel to wipe his face. His hair is dark with sweat. “You look suspiciously awake for someone who hates mornings.”
I arch a brow. “Maybe I just enjoy watching chaos unfold.”
Roman glances at me, suspicion flickering. “What did you do?”
“Nothing.” I smile sweetly.
He squints but doesn’t press it. They all drift toward the showers, their voices fading down the hall.
I wait.
Ten minutes later, I hear them again.
Three doors open. Three sets of footsteps. Three unsuspecting idiots.
And then?—
“WHAT THE—” Crew’s voice echoes first. “Why is there glitter on my towel?!”
Roman appears next, shirtless, dripping, his entire chest sparkling faintly under the kitchen lights. The sunlight from the window catches on his skin, turning him into something between a Greek god and a craft project gone wrong.
Elijah follows, equally shiny, his hair glittering like frost. He’s scowling hard enough to make the floorboards flinch.
The room goes dead silent for half a second—then Claire loses it. She bursts out laughing so hard she has to clutch the counter.
“Oh my god,” she wheezes. “You look like—like?—”
“Like the Cullens,” Archer cuts in, smirking. When Roman, Elijah, and Crew stare at him, confused, he continues. “FromTwilight.”
Will snorts. “Yeah, real menacing, lads. Sparkle harder.”
Oscar signs something, shoulders shaking.“Team Edward never looked so confused.”
That’s it. Claire howls. Even Will’s trying not to laugh.
Crew glances down at his glittering abs and groans. “Oh, for f— Lottie!”
I widen my eyes innocently. “What? You look… radiant.”
Roman rubs his face, silver flecks falling to the floor. “You’re still getting revenge?”
