Page 86 of Broken By Silence
“I handled it. I did everything Claire taught me.”
He studies me, something like pride flickering under the tension. “Yeah,” he says. “You did.”
We sit in silence for a while—the hum of the heater, the faint noise of students outside. My body throbs with every heartbeat. My knuckles sting where I hit him. There’s blood—his or mine—under my nails.
I should feel strong.
Victorious.
Instead, I feel small.
Dirty.
Shaken.
Will must see it, because he pushes away from the desk and crouches down again, resting a hand lightly on my knee. “You’re not that girl anymore,” he says quietly. “The one they broke. You hear me? You didn’t freeze. You fought. That’s what matters.”
I blink back tears, nodding.
The door bursts open a few minutes later. Archer first, then Crew, Elijah, Roman, and Oscar right behind him. They all stop dead when they see me.
Archer’s face drains of color. “Jesus, Lottie.”
“I’m fine,”I start, but he’s already crossing the room, dropping to his knees in front of me, hands hovering over my arms, then my throat like he’s afraid to touch.
“What happened?” Crew demands, his voice tight. “Who did this?”
“Lorenzo,” Will replies. “She fought him off. Security’s looking.”
Oscar’s hands move fast—signs sharp, angry. “Where. Is. He?”
I meet his eyes, shaking. “Gone.”
Archer swears silently, fists clenching. Elijah’s jaw ticks. Crew paces, muttering under his breath. Oscar’s hands flex into fists, then suddenly he’s in front of me, pulling me into his arms.
Roman looks pale. “I should never have gone there. If he didn’t…” his voice chokes. “If he didn’t know you were alive, none of this would have happened.”
Will holds up a hand. “Enough. She doesn’t need you all crowding her. She needs calm.”
I breathe in, slow. They step back a little, forming a wall of protection. The sight of them—all of them—steadies me more than anything. Archer finally looks at me, his eyes burning with something between fury and fear. “He could have got you.”
“He didn’t,”I sign, the silence feeling safe.
Normal.
Little Bird.
I can feel my skin crawling everywhere he touched me, like the memory of his hands is still there, burning beneath the surface. My throat throbs, raw and bruised, every swallow a reminder.
He silenced me,again.
But I’m not broken. Not yet.
Chapter 29
Roman
Istand like I never stand—feet planted, shoulders a fraction too wide, jaw tight enough to taste metal, and the sting of the snakes coiling down my jaw is just enough to ground me.
