My life

I will never be free

GENEVIEVE POV

When Mica handed me the letter, I hesitated before taking it. The envelope felt strange in my hands too light, too unfamiliar. I'd never received a letter before. Not one meant just for me. My first thought was that it must be from someone in his family. Maybe his sister. Maybe something kind. Something normal.

I opened it slowly.

The name at the top wasn't Genevieve.

It was Erica.

My stomach dropped before I even finished the first line.

> Hi Erica, 
> We miss you. Your cousin misses you. We wanted to wish you a very happy birthday.

My hands started shaking. My vision blurred, the words swimming on the page.

> You need to come home or we will come get you.

The air felt too thick to breathe.

> You don't deserve to be there when you ruined our life.

Each sentence landed like a slap.

> We lost everything saving you. And we will get back at you for that.

I couldn't hear anything anymore. Not the house. Not Mica. Not my own breathing.

> Happy last birthday.

The letter slipped from my fingers and fluttered to the floor like it weighed nothing at all.

I ran.

I didn't think. I didn't speak. My legs just moved, carrying me to the bathroom as panic clawed its way up my throat. I barely made it to the toilet before everything I'd eaten came up. The pancakes. The whipped cream. The sprinkles. My birthday breakfast.

Gone.

I retched until there was nothing left, my body convulsing even when my stomach was empty. I dry-heaved until my chest hurt and tears streamed down my face uncontrollably.

They were going to come for me.

That thought wrapped around my mind like a noose.

I would never be free. No matter where I went. No matter who tried to protect me. They always found a way back in. Always reminded me that I didn't belong anywhere else.

I felt Mica behind me before I heard him. He didn't demand answers. Didn't ask questions. He picked up the letter, read it, and I felt the shift in the room immediately his presence hardening, sharpening.

"They will never come here," he said, his voice low and absolute. "They will never hurt you again. I promise you that."

I wanted to believe him. I did. But fear had already soaked too deep into my bones.

I slid down onto the bathroom floor, my back against the cabinet, pulling my knees tight to my chest. I cried silently at first, then openly, ugly sobs tearing out of me. They had ruined another birthday. Another moment of happiness. Another small piece of hope.

Just like always.

Mica knelt in front of me and lifted me effortlessly into his arms. I clung to him, burying my face in his chest. His heartbeat was steady. Strong. Real. Being held like that quieted something inside me, something that had been screaming nonstop since I read that letter.

I didn't want to leave him. Ever.

He carried me upstairs, laid us both on the bed, and wrapped himself around me like a shield. I was so tired. I didn't want to sleep again. I felt like all I did was sleep like I was always escaping instead of living. But my body didn't give me a choice. It shut down anyway.

When I woke up a few hours later, I was still in his arms. He hadn't moved. He had his laptop balanced on his legs, fingers flying across the keyboard. His face was focused, serious, protective. Working on something for me. I knew it without asking.

I didn't want to interrupt him.

So I closed my eyes again, hoping to drift back under.

But just as sleep started to pull me down, I heard it.

"Genevieve."

My name.

It wasn't loud. It wasn't external. It came from inside my head soft but unmistakable, like a whisper carried through my veins.

My eyes flew open.

I shot upright in bed, heart racing, breath shallow, confusion crashing over me in waves. I looked around the room, searching for the source, my pulse pounding in my ears.

"Mica?" I whispered.

But he was still typing, unaware.

The voice hadn't come from him.

And somehow... I knew it hadn't been my imagination either.