The Nook

Chapter 31

I wake to the grating sound of the metal door creaking open, the joints whining and crying. I quickly snap up, pushing myself right against the wall. I'm glad they decided to unhook the chain that connects the collar to the wall. It makes moving a little easier.

I can't take any more of their torture. I brace myself, my body trembling with fear and pain, but I can't let them see that. They can't know how close I am to breaking. Pressing harder into the wall, I try to blend into it, as if I could melt away and be somewhere else—anywhere but here.

The guard walks in and it takes me a second to figure out which one it is. They all move the same, stiff and silent. But this one guard just seems different... familiar.

He gets closer while also keeping his distance. "How are you?" He asks, and I can't help but be thrown off guard.

Is he seriously asking how I am? I stare at him, my heart pounding in my chest, trying to swallow the panic that's crawling up my throat. My confidence is paper thin, but I hold his gaze, forcing myself not to flinch.

He makes the smallest movement—and I flinch, anyway.

"I'm not here to hurt you," he says softly, but it's not comforting. I've heard that line before. I don't believe him for a second. My breath catches when he reaches for his mask. Slowly, he pulls it off.

My heart stutters. It feels like it just gave up, tired of this nightmare like I am.

Griffin. My uncle.

"You bastard," I choke, my voice cracking with years of buried anger. He's older than I remember—thinner, with dark circles under his eyes like he hasn't slept in days. The years have chewed him up.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Adira. I'm here to help," he says, his tone heavy with regret. But it only makes my skin crawl.

"I'm just supposed to believe that?" I spit, venom lacing my words.

"How do I know I'm not here because of you?" He doesn't answer, the sorrow in his eyes, the frown tugging at his lips I can almost see the little boy mom make a pinkie promise with. The surrounding energy is still there.

"Your not as powerless as everyone thinks you are." I whisper, and he slowly looks back up at me. "What do you have?" I ask. My voice is as numb as how I feel.

He hesitates, then murmurs, "I can sense others' abilities." He's barely audible, like it's some sort of shameful confession. Of course. That's how he knew Mom was lying—when she told him there was no one else with powers but her.

"Why didn't you tell her?" I ask bitterly, the accusation sharp enough to cut.

He swallows hard. "I was protecting her."

I bark a bitter laugh, which hurts. Protecting her? What a joke. "You did a real shit job of that, didn't you?" My words are harsh, but he just nods, accepting it. The pieces fall into place—the way the Dwelling attached itself to him first, how it left him and went after Dad.

Nolan's possessed voice echoes in my mind, clear as day: "He's weak, just like your mother, and I'll kill him, just like I killed your father." I hadn't connected it until now.

"You had a Dwelling attached to you," I say, my voice shaking, but I don't look away. His eyes meet mine, wide, as the truth settles in.

"The Dwelling left you. It went for Dad. You brought it." My voice cracks at the end, the weight of it too much to bear. A tear slips down his cheek.

He doesn't get to cry.

"There's nothing I can do to fix what I've done," he says, his voice barely a whisper. He steps closer, gently taking my hand, turning it so my palm faces up. The cold metal he presses into my hand feels heavy—like the guilt that hangs over him. "This is the key to his restraints. I would've gotten yours, but I don't have access." His breath is shallow, strained, like he's hurting too. "They're planning to bring him here. As leverage."