Betrayed ✔️

Chapter 18: "Little Birdie"

TW!- Mentions of abuse

ADA

CARTER'S FACE SLACKENED and he drew in a sharp breath that got caught in his throat. "No... that's- that's impossible."

I shot him a flat look. "A lot of impossible things have been happening lately. One more can't hurt."

"Niamara was my sister."

"Your sister?" I frowned. "But I thought you only had a- oh."

Naomi's words pushed past the fog in my brain. "I know all about you and your siblings... oh, sorry, sibling."

How did I not see it before? I thought in despair as Carter's face crumbled and he withdrew into a shell. He glanced out of the window at the bleak grey sky with not a single ray of light able to pierce through.

"Can I- can I ask what happened?" I said, resting a what I hoped was a comforting hand on his shoulder.

Carter shook his head and pushed back a mop of black hair, looking as if he was about to cry or vomit all over the leather seats. "Please don't. It's still- I don't- I don't know what Nate means... Let me figure it out on my own first."

"Of course," I responded, and a sudden silence fell on the car. I kept glancing at Carter, a thousand questions burning on the tip of my tongue. But he'd respected my decision to keep my past private, so I would have to put my nosiness aside and extend the same courtesy to him.

Finally, we reached our destination. I passed Pedro a letter and told him to deliver it to Silvertongue. He wished us luck and sped off, and I listened to the sputtering engine until the sound was swallowed by the wind. Every rational cell in my body screeched at me to follow, to demand he take me back to the safe city centre. Away from this place, away from all the memories.

I took a deep breath, wiping my sweaty palms on my jeans and lowered my gaze to the ground. I turned over a twig with my foot, watching a beetle with a shiny black shell scuttle away.

What was I thinking? Tears sprung to my eyes, but I held them back. I- I'm not ready. Not at all. I can't- I can't do this.

"Hello little birdie..." He crooned, stroking my face with a gloved hand.

I flinched and shook my head harshly.

A spot of blood remained on my hands. Nestled between my right thumb and index finger. I wiped it away. It didn't go.

The spot grew bigger. It coated my hands. Covered them.

Is it his blood?

Or hers?

I had too much blood on my hands.

Too much.

I can't- I can't wipe it off.

Why won't it go?

Why won't they leave me alone?

I thought I'd made my peace with the ghosts. I thought they would stop haunting me once I'd paid my penance. Haven't I done enough? Haven't I suffered enough?

Have you suffered as much as Kayden? A low voice crooned in my ear, sweet and enticing as the poisoned words slipped into my brain. Are you saying you've paid the charge for murder?

"I'm sorry!" I wanted to scream until my voice was hoarse and my throat was raw. "I didn't mean for you to die!"

It was that wind-up bird.

That damned wind up bird.

What would have happened if I- if I'd kept going? If I hadn't stopped?