Blurred lines in a forbidden fairytale [Taylor x OC]

{68} keep your eyes open

(A/N: I'm in the mood for comments so spammmm😛)

Taylor's POV:

The nausea begins to loosen its iron grip, leaving me feeling hollow and shaky but no longer chained to the porcelain. I lean my head back against the wall, breathing slowly as Aurora hovers nearby. She offers me a glass of water, and I sip it carefully, my throat raw.

When the knock comes at the door, my stomach twists again, but not from sickness this time. Aurora moves quickly to answer it, and within seconds, two officers step inside, their uniforms stark and authoritative in the chaos of my home.

"Miss Swift?" one of them asks, his voice calm but clipped.

"Yes," I croak, pulling myself to my feet with the wall's support. My knees feel wobbly, but I steady myself. "That's me."

Aurora lingers at my side, her presence anchoring me as the officers begin their questions.

"When was the last time you saw Felicia?"

"Last night," I say, my voice stronger now though my chest aches with every word. "She went to bed around nine. I—I checked on her before I went to sleep, and she was fine. She was there."

The officer nods, jotting something down. "Was anything out of the ordinary leading up to this? Any arguments, unusual behavior?"

I falter, my mind flashing back to the fight yesterday. "We argued," I admit, my voice tight. "She's been... acting out lately. I think—" I glance at Aurora, whose expression is a mix of encouragement and worry. "I think she's still traumatized after..."

"After what?" the officer prompts.

I exhale shakily. "After my ex-boyfriend, Joe. He... he tried to hurt her."

The officers exchange a glance, and I rush to explain. "I ended things with him weeks ago. He hasn't been back here since, but—but maybe he—" My voice cracks, and I clutch at the thought like a lifeline. "Maybe he took her. To punish me."

"Does he have a history of violence?"

I hesitate, shame washing over me. "Not until recently. He was angry when I told him to leave. He—he hit me once the day before and tried to hit her. But I haven't seen him since."

The officer frowns, scribbling in his notebook. "Do you have any reason to believe he would return?"

"Not until now," I whisper. My hands tremble, and I clench them into fists to keep from falling apart.

"Do you know where we might find him?"

I shake my head helplessly. "He has friends in the city, but I don't know where. He—he traveled for work a lot. I don't even know if he's still in town."

The officers ask a few more questions—descriptions of Felicia, what she was wearing, her habits. I answer them all, though my mind feels sluggish and detached, like I'm floating outside my body.
Finally, one of them speaks again. "We'll look into this. We'll start by canvassing the area and reaching out to known associates of your ex-boyfriend. In the meantime, we need you to stay here, Miss Swift. In case Felicia returns on her own."

"But—"

"Taylor," Aurora interrupts gently, her hand on my arm. "They're doing what they can. We have to trust them."

I swallow hard, the words bitter in my throat, but I nod. "Okay," I whisper.

The officers leave, their presence replaced by an unbearable silence. Aurora leads me back to the living room, but I don't sit. I pace instead, my mind spinning with every horrible possibility.
Aurora watches me, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. "We'll find her, Taylor," she says softly.