Chapter 5

After that, I grew terrified of the outside world. I shunned the light and dreaded being around crowds. I became a caged beast, sealing myself off from everything.

I started seeing Dad’s ghost. His blood-red eyes would glow from under my bed. I would curl up, trembling, and beg, "Dad, I’m sorry. Please spare me."

The hallucinations pushed me to the edge. In my weakest moments, Julian was the one who held me.

His face would be cast in shadow, his voice sickeningly sweet. "Clara, just please me, and you’ll escape the pain. You’ll be happy."

His touch was searing, his breath intense as he pressed his body against mine.

"You’re filthy garbage, Clara. Who else would hold you but me?"

I sobbed, wanting to argue, but he was right. No one loved me. I had been discarded.

Julian became my entire world. Without him, I would panic and feel like I was losing my mind.

At school, my classmates mocked me for being a spineless follower. The girls who liked Julian would corner me in the bathroom. They dunked my head in mop water, laughing that a toad like me belonged in the sewer.

They stripped me and humiliated me. I don’t even know how I finally left that bathroom.

I ended up on the rooftop, shirtless, with the wind howling around me. The world spun, and I stepped forward, completely dizzy.

"Hey!"

I turned around. A handsome boy stood there, staring at me in shock. Our eyes met.

His pale face flushed. He shut his eyes and shyly asked, "Aren’t you cold?"

Before I could answer, he added, "I’m actually kind of warm. Do you want my shirt?"

He edged closer, peeling off his white shirt to reveal a lean waist. My gaze lingered on him.

"Whoops!" He tripped and fell, but managed to hold the shirt high in the air. "Didn't get dirty," he said with a relieved sigh.

He was so clumsy. Blood beaded on his scraped skin, and I crouched down to stare at the wound.

He blushed, his ears turning bright red. "Maybe you should put the shirt on?" His voice was soft, and he kept his eyes averted.

"No," I said, clutching the fabric as tears started to fall. "I won't."

He panicked, fumbling to wipe my tears away with his sleeve. "At least drape it over your shoulders. Don't catch a cold."

"Please don't cry. I really can't handle it when girls cry," he said softly, stealing a quick glance at me.

His gentleness broke whatever defenses I had left. I hugged him, sobbing hysterically.

I didn't know it then, but that afternoon, as I stood on the edge of the roof, I had saved him, too. He chose me over death.

But I ended up betraying him, again and again.

His name was Rowan Hayes, the school’s famed art prodigy. I had seen his work in the gallery—dark, lonely pieces featuring a vortex of red waves swallowing everything in sight.

Yet in the sunlight, his face was soft. His brown eyes sparkled, and a small mole by his eye made him look like a lost puppy.

"When I’m feeling down, I come to the beach," he told me, having skipped school to bring me there.

We kicked off our shoes, splashed in the surf, and collected clams. The waves tickled our calves.

Exhausted, we eventually sat on a reef. The sunset burned across the sky, and the salty breeze tousled his hair.

I stared at him, hugging my knees to my chest. He looked away, his ears turning pink again.

"Want to hear a story about the sea?" he asked.

He told me about a butterfly that dreamed of crossing the ocean to reunite with its lover. It braved hunger and violent storms, its wings tearing and its body breaking. Finally, it fell from exhaustion and died. Everyone called the butterfly foolish—it had crossed the entire sea only to find no lover waiting for it. But the butterfly didn't know that its lover had been waiting the whole time, eventually turning to stone.

"When I was little, my mom flew away," Rowan said. "I’ve been waiting for her, but I don’t think she’s ever coming back."

His voice was light, but it carried a deep, old pain.

That night, Julian stormed into my room. He locked the door, his eyes dark and furious.

He loomed over me, the shadows pooling around him like sewage. He grabbed my throat and pinned me to the bed.

"Clara, I leave you alone for one day, and you’re already out chasing guys?"

"You’re so cheap."

His voice was raw and predatory, his gaze looking as if he were ready to devour me.

"Without my permission, you can’t be with other men. You owe me."

I choked, my vision blurring at the edges.

After that night, Julian told Mother something. She stormed into my school, bursting right into Rowan’s classroom. She screamed that he had seduced me and was ruining my studies. Her voice was shrill and completely hysterical.

Rowan just sat there silently, his head bowed.