❦ Chapter Nineteen - Charlotte ❦

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The corridor feels like it's closing in around me as I stand there, caught between Atlas's room and the three guys now blocking my path. Their concern is palpable, and it's almost suffocating, especially when I'm still reeling from what just happened behind that door. I feel exposed, vulnerable, and the last thing I need is their pity.

Jameson's voice pulls me back to the present. "We were just wondering where you might have gone off to."

I force myself to meet his gaze, trying to mask the whirlwind of emotions churning inside me. "I just... needed some air."

"Late-night strolls are always refreshing," Oliver says, though there's something in his tone that suggests he knows more than he's letting on. His eyes, usually so warm and playful, are sharper now, studying me like he's trying to piece together a puzzle.

"I'm fine," I say, more defensively than I intend. "Really."

Sebastian steps forward, his eyes full of that gentle concern that makes it hard to stay guarded. "We know you're strong, Charlotte. But it's okay to let someone else be strong for you, too."

His words hit harder than I expect, and I find myself swallowing around the lump forming in my throat. I don't know what to say to that. I've spent so long building up these walls, trying to be the perfect princess, the perfect daughter, that I've forgotten what it feels like to let someone in.

But the way they're looking at me now—like they really care, like they want to help—makes something inside me crack, just a little.

"We wanted to apologise," Jameson says, breaking the silence. "For what happened with Rylan. None of us knew he was capable of something like that, and we feel... responsible, in a way."

"You're not responsible for his actions," I reply quickly, the words tumbling out before I can stop them. "He made his own choices. You had nothing to do with it."

Oliver frowns, shaking his head. "Maybe not directly, but we were supposed to look out for you. We should have been there."

"And we weren't," Sebastian adds, his voice soft, almost pained. "We're sorry, Charlotte. Really."

Their sincerity tugs at something deep inside me, something that makes it hard to keep my emotions in check. I can see they mean it, that they really do care, and that makes it harder to brush off their concern.

"Thank you," I say, my voice quieter now. "But please, don't blame yourselves. It's not fair to you."

Jameson exhales, running a hand through his hair. "Maybe, but it doesn't change the fact that we want to make it right."

There's a pause, a moment of silence that hangs between us, heavy with unspoken thoughts. I'm not used to this—people wanting to do something for me just because they care. It's foreign, unsettling, but also... comforting.

"What do you mean?" I ask, a hint of curiosity breaking through my wariness.

"We want to do something to make it up to you," Oliver says, his expression softening. "Something to show you that we're here for you, no matter what."

A smile tugs at the corner of Jameson's lips. "We were thinking... maybe we could cook you a meal."

"Cook me a meal?" I repeat, blinking in surprise.

Sebastian nods, his eyes brightening with the idea. "Yeah. The three of us, together. It could be like a... date, of sorts. A chance for you to get to know us better."

I can't help the small laugh that escapes me, the absurdity of the situation breaking through the tension. "You three? Cook? Are you sure you know what you're getting yourselves into?"

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