Prowling behind me, he gathered my hair in his fist. “You have such beautiful hair. Last chance to change your mind, Weaver.”
My voice held no fear or objection. If my tone were a colour, it would be colourless. “Do whatever you want.”
I’d never cut my hair.
Ever.
It was a stupid reason but one I’d done for my mother. She’d loved to play with it. To plait it, thread it with flowers and ribbon—show me off as her little princess.
That was my last remaining memory of her, and Daniel had stolen that, too.
“Gonna slice every strand off your head,” Daniel promised. His touch tugged on my hair, twining it into a rope. “Ready to say goodbye?”
My heart didn’t hurry. My eyes didn’t burn.
“Don’t fucking answer me. See if I care.” Daniel’s fingers yanked harder and the rusty yawn of the scissors bled through my ears.
My eyes closed as the first snip turned me into a stranger.
Physically, I couldn’t feel pain, but spiritually, I howled in anguish. It hurt. It hurt so so much to have such a poignant piece of me stolen without fighting, without screaming, without protecting what made me me.
The second snip broke me.
It hurts, it hurts, it hurts.
The third snip destroyed me.
Stop, stop, stop…
The fourth snip completely annihilated me.
I have nothing left.
“Can’t tell you how satisfying this is.” Daniel laughed, cutting with no finesse, hacking through the thick black strands.
I was alone in this.
Alone and shorn like some animal for slaughter.
All I could do was mourn silently.
Snip, snip, snip.
My curtain of ebony hair disappeared with every scissor-slice. Cascades of thick blackness puddled, devastated and dead, on the blood-red rug. I’d given up the last part of me—the final toll for my brother’s freedom.
I’m doing it for him, for love, for family, for hope.
I said goodbye.
To my youth.
To my childhood.
Snip, snip, snip…
This was the end.
Snip, snip, snip…
It was over.
I BECAME SOMEONE I never knew I was capable of.
A monster.
An avenger.
The hero I needed to be.
Nobody would touch her again.
Not me.
Not my family.
Not even pain itself.
I stepped onto Hawksridge land. My land. My legacy.
I’m here for you, Nila.
I’ll fix this.
I just hoped I wasn’t too late.
SLEEP.
It was the only peace I got these days.
Peace from my fracturing soul. Peace from breaking.
They’d won.
They’d finally broken me. Finally proven that no one had unlimited resources to remain strong. That we all break eventually.
I wasn’t proud of myself.
I hated that I’d lost.
But at least Vaughn was safe. At least I’d done right by him.
I had no weapons to defend myself. No energy to push aside the dresser and protect myself. My belief that I could ruin them disappeared into dust.
Nothing mattered anymore.
I was theirs to do with what they wanted. And my heart was officially empty.
My reflection in the bathroom mirror showed a terrifying transformation. Hollows existed in my cheeks, shadows ringed my eyes, and the blood on my chest glowed with crimson fire.
But it was my missing hair that hurt the most.
Ragged and shorn, my glossy black strands were now in tatters. They hung over my ears, all different lengths, hacked into dysfunction by Daniel’s sheers. I no longer looked like Nila Weaver, daughter of Tex, sister to Vaughn, empress to a company worth millions. I looked like a runaway, a slave, a girl who’d seen death and no longer existed with the living.
I look ready to pay the Final Debt.
I feel ready to pay the final price.
There was no power left inside me.
Staring into my black eyes, I shivered at my listlessness.
They didn’t even let me say goodbye.
The moment the last strand hit the floor, Marquise had marched Vaughn from the room without a backward glance. I’d never seen V so wild or so helpless.
In two seconds, he’d disappeared.
I’d wanted to cry, to sob, to snap.
But I’d just stood there until Cut gave me permission to leave.
I was in a billion pieces.
How can I ever find my way back when I have no more glue to fix myself?
Bowing my head, I hated the unfamiliarity, the frigid breeze whistling around the back of my neck. My head was light as air and heavy with thunderclouds.
I’d lost everything. My backbone. My faith. They’d stolen more from me than just vanity—they’d stolen my right to myself.
I didn’t look away as I washed and tended. I couldn’t stop staring at my new face.
I didn’t have kind words to bolster my courage. I didn’t have hope to patch up my weeping heart. All I had was emptiness and the bone-deep desire to go to sleep and forget.
Using a torn piece of calico, I washed my wound as best as I could. Water whisked away the blood, but nothing could wash away the filth existing inside me.
I’d given up.
I’d vanished just as surely as Cut had won.
I was done.
Stumbling from the bathroom, I left behind the last remaining part of me. I said goodbye to the woman I once knew and fell face first into bed.
No thoughts.
No wishes.
Just emptiness.
I let sleep consume me.
Jethro smiled, holding me close.
His body heat, normally negligible with his cold temperature, roared with love and healing.
“I’ve got you now, Nila. It’s okay. I’ll make it all go away.”
Having someone look after me after so long, undammed my tears, and I fell into his embrace. “I’ve missed you so much. I tried to be strong. I tried.” I cried harder. “I tried to be so strong but it’s not enough. Nothing will ever be enough. I’m empty. I’m lost. I don’t know how to get back.”
Jethro’s lips kissed my forehead. “You’re so strong. You’ll heal. Hush. I’ve got you. You’ll be alright. Hush.” He rocked me, soothing my hair, never letting me go.
“I can’t do this anymore, Jethro. I can’t.” I curled into his arms, wanting to fade away and stop everything. “There’s nothing left. I have nothing…nothing!”
He kissed my hair—my beautiful, long hair. A low growl built in his throat. “You won’t have to. I’m ending it. I’m going to save you. It will all be over soon.”
The dream unwound from my thoughts as a tap against glass roused me.
The vacant despair inside me throbbed, but sleep had patched me together infinitesimally—letting me hold on just a little longer. Jethro’s dream embrace stitched the vanishing pieces together just enough that I didn’t burst into tears.
Whatever the Hawks did to me, no matter what affliction I suffered, no matter how desolate my mind became, I still existed—still survived.
I’m not done until I’m dead. And even then, I’m immortal.
Remember that and be strong.
The rapping came again, guiding my eyes to the dark window.
The heavy emerald drapes puddled velvet from ceiling to floor. They blocked the night sky and any hint of the mysterious noise.
Tap. Tap-tap.
Could a tree have fallen? Could Flaw be throwing stones at my window to get my attention?
Curiosity overrode my stiffness, forcing me from the warmth of slumber. Shuffling from the covers, the room swirled with vertigo. The imbalance was worse because I’d given in. I couldn’t fight it anymore. I let the black wave take me, gripping the mattress until it faded. The cut on my chest burned as I breathed hard and slow.
The tapping came faster, louder.
Climbing unsteadily to my feet, I padded across the room and wrenched the curtains aside.
My eyes dropped to the sill, searching for answers.
I tripped backward.
What—
Something feathered and flighty hopped away, only to soar back and tap against the glass. I’d expected to see a wayward branch or even some flotsam that’d lodged against the frame.
I hadn’t expected this.
Had some messenger from God come to slap me for being so lost? Was it some mystery of Mother Nature saying she believed in me?
I’m not alone…
My heart swelled as lost hope unfurled.
The people I lived with might not care about me…but others did. I couldn’t stop fighting because I was loved. Out there, somewhere, I was loved by people who mattered.
My heart twisted as I bent closer to inspect.
The bird of prey rapped its beak on the window, hopping on the sill outside. Its beady black eyes tore through me, as if in one glance it knew what I’d dealt with and how close I was to the end.
You understand me, little bird. Are you my saviour?
Backing away from the window, I balled my hands.
You don’t need a saviour…if you only believed in yourself again...
So what, your hair is gone? So what, your brother is gone? So what, Jethro is gone?
You’re not gone.
So fight!
The bird charged the pane, rapping its beak with fury.
I froze.
Winter ice had chased away autumn far too fast. The spidery lace of frost decorated corners of the glass. The radiating cold cut through my cotton nightgown like knives.
Poor thing.
I hated to think of the poor creature in the cold. No animal should be without shelter.