Fighting For Hope

Chapter Twenty Nine

"Better to get hurt by the truth than comforted with a lie."

—

HOPE'S POV

I assisted in paying for the ride to get Grayson's new friend home since he said he did not reside in this town, without prying for what he could have possibly done to have ended up in Calvin's cell.

"I never thought I'd leave that hell hole," Grayson muttered as he waited for another ride to stop by. "I need to speak to Josh and ask if someone has possessed him."

I looked over to him with a raised eyebrow, silently telling him to clarify what he just said.

"For some unknown reason, he placed me in that prison. One day, before I was about to set off for school, he came to my place, offering me a ride, then brought me here and guided me down. I have no idea what has gotten into him."

It struck me like a ton of bricks. Josh was lying about how anxious he was for Grayson's vanishment since he knew the whole time his best friend was stuck in a cell, only able to be brought out to receive torment. I was grateful he did not leave the part of Grayson's parents being in debt out of our call since it was what brought me to the conclusion that he was kidnapped.

I wanted to ask Grayson for the favour which caused him to be out of the cell in the first place and wondered if I should just use my voice.

The reason I don't expose my voice to others was to remind myself that not everyone should know who I am, for every time my voice is heard, there is a chance I would ramble on about my atrocious past. I had defied that rule I made for myself when I first trusted and talked to Tyler.

I don't regret it; I had forgotten how true happiness felt until he showed me. But every action had consequences, and choosing to trust had resulted in his situation right now.

I was frightened to let go of my fear, to have everyone know who I am. I would rather conceal it, but as I shared with one, it felt tougher to hide the truth.

I looked beside me, where Grayson stared at the trees with a tug on the side of his lips. I am not trusting him, I assured myself, just sharing my voice. He won't find out about my past as long as I keep quiet about it.

Just as I opened my mouth, a car approached, and Grayson held out his hand. It came to a stop in front of us, and both of us climbed in.

He shared his address with the driver, then looked over at me, probably expecting me to give the driver my address by a slip of paper. Instead, I looked over and mumbled in a hushed, but audible voice, "I need to talk to you, I'll stop at your place."

His eyes enlarged in the sound of my voice, nodding his head as the car started moving.

In ten minutes, we found ourselves outside the door of his house, a little cottage which I had always dreamed of having for myself. It is bewitching and the best house I have ever eyed—the idyllic comfortable size. I grew up in a palatial two-story house and moved to a mansion, then a sumptuous modern apartment, yet this cottage caught my eyes most.

It was quite modest, not modern or luxurious, and had enough space in front so flowers and bushes could cover the area. I could smell the scent of fresh nature, and I had never felt so tranquil even in my own house. I could almost picture a family living in it and how blessed they were to be together.

I turned over to Grayson after I heard the car we were previously in driving away.

"I have a favour," I said, forcing a smile.

He did not disguise the stunned expression that took over his face as he heard my voice for the second time. Perhaps he had thought I could not speak, like half of the people who could recognize me in school.