I am the Enemy ~ S.M [3]

Two Failures Make a Success

Chapter 22

It's been five days.

Five days since Kira left.

Five days since I last spoke to Scott.

We've passed each other in the hallway between our rooms, exchanging brief glances but no real acknowledgment. We haven't spoken about what happened between us - the fight. Was it a fight? An argument? A disagreement? I don't know. But either way, I feel unbalanced. Like I've been walking on a tightrope and a gust of wind is threatening to send me spiraling.

I haven't spoken to anyone else either. They've called, but I just can't bring myself to answer. Stiles has left me countless messages asking for my help with finding the bodies - his voice bouncing between frustration and concern. He's worried about Lydia finding Donovan. I want to help, but the truth is, I feel like a fraud.

Kira's gone. I promised I would help her - promised I'd figure out what was happening to her.

I couldn't even do that.

She wasn't just my best friend, she was a slice of what normal could be. An escape from my supernatural life where my family was torn apart, my only living siblings scattered, and my cousin still hiding some deep-seated secret.

I've been doing a lot of thinking these past few days. And I know I need to speak to Scott, but I can't find the words. I'm not that good with the whole apology thing. And even if I do find what to say... I'll still be lying to him about Lucia.

Everything feels like it's closing in.

Most days, it's a struggle to get out of bed. Even when I make it to class, my mind isn't there. The weight of it all presses down on me, suffocating me. But the fear - that's the worst part. The fear of anyone finding out what I did to Lucia... It feels stronger now, real. Before, it was just my secret, mine and Peter's.

But now Theo knows.

I don't think he'll tell anyone. I hope not. But knowing that someone else carries this piece of me - this darkness - makes it feel real in a way it wasn't before. Like it's no longer just a nightmare in my head.

But it also offers reassurance that maybe he's the only one who would understand.

He's killed, too. Twice. Self-defense, sure, but killing someone takes something from you. A piece of your soul. And once it's gone, you can't get it back.

Before I can stop myself, I dial his number.

"Theo?"

"Hey, are you okay?" He replies, his tone laced with concern. "I've been trying to reach you for days."

"I'm alright, I'm just... can we talk?"

He pauses for a moment, the line going quiet, "I'm at the animal clinic if you want to swing by?"

"The animal clinic?" My brows furrow. "Why are you there?"

"I was checking for any clues. If you'd answered your phone, you might have known that." he muses, a teasing edge to his voice.

I exhale, "Sorry, it's just been... a lot."

"Swing by and I'll see if I can ease your mind, okay?" He says lightly, causing me to shake my head but nonetheless agree.

The ride to the clinic is the first time in days that my mind feels clear. There's something about being on a motorbike - the wind against my skin, the hum of the engine - that strips everything else away. It makes things feel simple, even if only for a moment.

But as soon as I step inside my stomach clenches.

Theo stands at one end of the metal table.

Scott at the other.