Chapter 3

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Fitz-Few days after battle

I was sitting at my desk, looking out the window when I heard a timid knock on my door.

"Come in," I said somberly.

I saw my dad's face as he closed the door.

"Fitz, I have something to tell you, and I know you aren't going to except it," he sighed before continuing. "But I'm going to tell you the truth. And you can't tell Biana."

I said numbly, "Nothing could be worse than what happened to Biana."

"Fitz, Sophie has disappeared. She-she didn't come back," Dad said.

I stared at the top of my desk not saying anything. All you could here in the room was the pencil rolling onto the floor from my hand.

"She's gone Fitz," he whispered sadly.

I knew he was waiting for me to cry, scream that it wasn't fair, yell in anger, at least look at him, do something. And yet, all I could do was keep my eyes glued to my desk.

"Fitz--"

But he was cut off by Biana's scream. On the cue, I bolted out of my room, door slamming behind, me into Bi's.

I saw her shaking, kicking the blankets off her frame, she screamed again.

I pinned her arms down, "Biana. You're okay, it's me Fitz. Don't worry, you're safe. We're back at home, with mom and dad. They can't hurt you here." 

Biana's blue eyes snapped open, tears were falling down her face. Her breathing calmed down and she closed her eyes with a strangled sigh.

"Is Sophie okay?" She asked quietly.

The pang her name caused made me want to pass out.

I looked away when I lied, "Yeah. She's fine. She's just wishing you'd get better."

"Has she been here?"

"Yeah, she visited you every time you were asleep," I lied again, my heart breaking at how happy Biana now was knowing her best friend was okay, when she wasn't.

Biana let out another sigh, except this one was in contempt, "Tell her I'll visit her tomorrow, if I can."

I squeezed my eyes shut, "Yeah. I'll tell her."

My voice cracked, and when I stood up to leave I saw my dad staring at us. He looked so sad--heartbroken.

When we were out of Biana's hearing range, I glared at him and spat out with all the venom I could muster, "I hope you're happy."

"Fitz I--"

"I hate you--all of you!" I spat out. 

"Fitz please--"

I cut him off with the slam of my door. And it felt good. The door slamming, the bad things I said, it all felt refreshing. It was invigorating, intoxicating, I wanted to break more rules. I didn't want to be the 'golden boy' everyone claimed I was.

This must've been what Keefe felt every time he pranked someone.

I'm not going to be sad anymore.

I'm not going to be sad anymore.

I-I'm not going to b-e sad an-nymore.

I-I-I'm sad a-g-gain.

Alden

I starred at his figure as he ran into his room, slamming the door behind him.

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