Grace woke up after a while, but by then, it was already nighttime.
“What happened to me?” she asked, struggling to lift herself up.
Rose gently helped her into a sitting position and said, “You suddenly collapsed. You’ve been out for hours.”
“I’m sorry,” Grace said with a faint smile, “I must have been exhausted from taking care of Hana.”
Rose remained silent for a moment before asking, “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Grace seemed to understand what Rose was getting at but played dumb. “What are you talking about?”
Rose rolled up her sleeve to reveal a bruise. “Why didn’t you tell me about the bastard who did this to you?” Rose’s voice was a low growl, full of unrestrained fury. It was the kind of anger you didn’t want anyone to witness. But Rose let it all out.
“Because I don’t want to burden someone as busy as you, Rose,” Grace said, her smile serene despite the ache she felt. The strength in her ability to smile through pain was remarkable. “I didn’t want to add to your already heavy load. I don’t have that right.”
Rose’s eyes flashed with intensity. “You have every right to tell me,” she said firmly. “You’re like a sister to me. Sure, we’re not blood-related, but after all those years living in my family’s house, you’re the one who looked after me.”
Grace’s gaze softened as she spoke. “I’m just a maid,” she said quietly. “Your family assigned me to take care of you when you were just a child. But I’ve always thought of you as my little sister. Without any family of my own, having you around fills my heart with warmth. But that’s exactly why I can’t burden you with this.”
Hmm… So they weren’t really related by blood after all. But then again, families come in many forms.
“Besides, I don’t think Philip is as bad as you’re making him out to be,” Grace said, her voice soft but steady, as if she was trying to convince herself as much as Rose. “Sure, sometimes he gets rough with me, like this…” She touched the bruise, wincing slightly, “…but it’s never to the point of trying to kill me. I mean, a father wouldn’t go so far as to kill the woman he married and fathered a daughter with, right? He’s not a bad guy. I wouldn’t have married him if he was. Although… I kinda wish he’d stop following along with whatever people he’s hanging out with. He changed when he joined that group.”
Rose’s eyes went wide, a flicker of realization crossing her face before she slowly turned toward me.
“Do you know what group he got involved with?” I asked, my voice low but tense.
Grace’s expression darkened, her shoulders sagging. “I have no idea,” she said, shaking her head. “But I think that’s what changed him. He started talking about things I couldn’t make sense of, and sometimes he’d wake up in the middle of the night, muttering things… things I couldn’t understand.”
“Does it sound like… ‘In the shadows, we find truth, and in the darkness, we are reborn. The world will bow to our will, for we are the harbingers of the Eclipse, where light meets its end and our power begins’?” I asked. Those were the exact words the members of the Eclipse whispered just before their heads exploded.
Grace frowned, her expression troubled. “That does sound like it, though I can’t be completely sure. Why? Is something wrong?”
“Nothing at all,” I replied, though my words were far from the truth.
There was everything wrong. Her husband wasn’t just in some shady group—he’d been brainwashed, swallowed by a criminal cult that specialized in kidnapping women. Worse yet, it was too late to save him. Anyone who got close or dared to speak their secrets had their heads blown off, the organization made sure of that. Her husband was already far too gone, and there was no way out for him.
I locked eyes with Rose. She knew exactly what I was thinking—hell, she was investigating this same shit too. We didn’t even need to say it, but it hung heavy between us.
Later that night, after Grace had finally drifted off to sleep, I turned to Rose. “Her husband’s probably with the Eclipse,” I said, my voice low, cutting through the silence. “Everything she said points to it. There’s not much left to figure out.”
Rose pulled the cigarette from her lips, her eyes narrowing as she blew out a long stream of smoke. It curled in the air like the weight of the truth sinking in. “Then we wait for him to come back,” she muttered, her tone cold and steady, “see if it’s real.”
“You serious?” I shot back, not convinced. “His head could explode the second we push him. You want to make her a widow like that?”
Her jaw tightened, the edge of her cigarette burning between her fingers. “I’d rather that than let her suffer at the hands of some scum like him.” She paused, her voice lowering into a growl. “I don’t give a fuck what it takes, even if she hates me for the rest of her life. I’m not standing by and watching the woman who raised me go through that kind of hell.”
And it looked like she was determined todo just that. I could almost feel the rage enveloping her in a quiet storm. I was sure that his husband, Philip, I heard his name was, would be going to be in a lot of hell.
***
That night, I slipped out of my room, the floor creaking softly under my weight as I moved through the dim hallway. I reached Grace’s room and carefully pushed the door open, peering inside. She was asleep, her face pale against the pillow, looking so fragile. Her daughter, Hana, was tucked in the small crib beside her, sleeping soundly, blissfully unaware of the storm swirling around her life.
“She won’t do anything stupid… not with us here, right?” I muttered under my breath, eyes darting from Grace to her child. “Maybe she’s holding back because she’s got Hana now. Maybe being a mother’s enough to keep her grounded.”
But I knew it was bullshit. Everything about her screams lie. She loved that bastard once, but that was long gone. The marks on her skin were proof of that. He hurt her, but she stayed because, at some point, love had blinded her. Not anymore, though. Now, whatever was left of that love had rotted away. She’d never love him again.
What Rose didn’t catch—but I did—was the hollow emptiness in Grace’s eyes. That wasn’t the look of a woman in denial, it was the look of someone who’d spiraled so far down into despair that she was begging for a way out. Every little movement, the way she walked, the way she carried herself—it all screamed of a broken woman on the edge. And the way she walked? That wasn’t the only thing that was wrong with her. Something else lurked beneath the surface, something darker.
As I was leaving the house, something caught my eye—a rope. My chest tightened. I didn’t want to jump to conclusions, but knowing the hell Grace was living through, it wasn’t hard to guess what that rope could mean. It wasn’t a matter of if anymore—it was when. I needed to get rid of that rope and make sure she stayed far away from anything sharp. This was going to spiral if I didn’t step in fast.
Once I stepped outside, I called out, “Morthea?”
In response, vines unfurled from a nearby tree, slithering down its trunk before a woman emerged halfway from its bark. Only her upper body was visible, the rest still fused with the tree. The dog nearby barked like crazy, but I quickly quieted it by activating the Guardian around him. He stopped almost instantly.
“Seen anything unusual?” I asked her, my voice low.
“Yes, Master,” Morthea replied, her voice as soft as the wind. “I’ve sensed many different life forces… from several men, all lingering around her.”
I clenched my fists. “I see.”
The ugly truth hit me like a punch to the gut. Her husband… that piece of shit. He hadn’t just hurt her; he’d let other men use her. What a sick, twisted, pathetic fucking cuck.
