Found Obsession

Chapter 115: Some Cages Are Just Mental.

Rose stared up at the clouds as she lay on the rooftop, the soft wind brushing against her face. Her tactical goggles rested beside her, forgotten as she tried to process everything she had just heard.

She hadn't planned on listening. She had left for the kitchen, only to pause mid-step before jumping when she realized she hadn't asked if the others wanted anything. Turning back had been a simple gesture of courtesy. Yet, when she turned back, she found herself listening and staying out of view.

She had heard everything.

That way they'll be prepared for the day you're gone.

Jonathan's words played over and over in her mind, each repetition heavier than the last.

He hadn't lashed out at Elijah. He hadn't taken his anger on Elijah due to him killing Sasha and Mark. He hadn't pushed for confessions. No, Jonathan had kept his composure, offering advice—advice meant to make them better opponents. But Rose understood the deeper layer beneath his words.

Jonathan had said it before. They were probably on the losing team.

And when they lost, Jonathan wasn't rooting for the ones harming children. His quiet resolve, his actions, all pointed toward something far more profound. If they had to lose, if justice couldn't prevail through their means, then Jonathan would rather see Elijah and the others win.

That truth settled heavily in Rose's chest, tangling with a storm of emotions.

She wasn't sure how she felt—about Elijah, about Jonathan, about herself. Anger, frustration, grief, understanding—it all rattled inside her, colliding and twisting into a knot she couldn't untangle.

She exhaled shakily, her gaze locked on the clouds. 

She clenched her fists. She thought of the faces—Mark's, Sasha's, Edward's.  If the time came, if she lost her way, if no other path remained...

She hated admitting it, but she also preferred Elijah and the others winning over the monsters destroying the children.

And that was why she couldn't bring herself to keep— to keep asking herself or them if they had ever felt guilty, at least over Mark and Sasha. She had to let that go. To be able to see them, to be around them, especially when Jonathan left for war. If Jonathan could keep his composure, then so could she. She had to.

At least for today, she knew they would continue receiving a lesson.

With the ache in her chest tightening, Rose adjusted her tactical goggles and continued on her way, following the directions Jonathan had given. She suspected that the reason for him requesting knives from the kitchen was likely for her to start knocking up whoever came, one by one.

As she moved through the hallways, the decaying stench of bodies assaulted her senses. The air was thick with it, and it mingled with the humid heat of the day. Her earlier hunger turned sour, she shouldn't have ever felt hunger in the first place, everything was nauseating. The gardens, the hallways, the floors...

When she reached the doorway of the kitchen, Rose took a careful peek inside.

There they were—four nuns, all busily moving around the kitchen. What caught her attention, however, was the soldier-like bag tucked neatly in the corner.

Had Jonathan known she would end up here?

A small smile tugged at her lips before a dull ache spread across her chest.

He just knows me...

Quietly, Rose stepped inside, careful not to disturb the nuns. They were focused, pulling knives from drawers and cabinets, piling them onto a cart. The sound of metal clinking filled the room, and it was clear they had been thorough. They eyed her but then returned back to what they were doing.