Epilogue

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Two days after Sterling's funeral, I find myself seated in Mrs. Warner's living room, sipping on a cup of tea as she chats away. She speaks fast and chipperly, talking about things I'm only partly paying attention to. This tenant did this, this tenant did that. That one is leaving; these new ones are coming. Blah, blah, blah.

I smile and nod, but in the end, I'm not really listening. Exhaustion plagues me. Ever since Sterling's funeral, I haven't been able to shake her mother's expression from my mind. Empty eyes. That's what haunts my thoughts. That's what I see every time I close my eyes.

"Anyway," Mrs. Warner says, "enough of that. How have you been these last few days?"

I look at her. She is fixated on me, her eyes locked on mine. Truthfully, deep down, I know she already knows. She can see how I've been. I'm sure the circles forming under my eyes have already told her plenty. Still, do I feel like lying, or spilling my guts? If I'm being honest, I don't want to do either.

I suck in a breath and reply, "I'm...just getting by."

Her eyes are soft. "I figured as much, dear. Have you heard any news from that TSC fellow? Sorry, but I don't quite remember his name."

"Juuzou." I don't blame her for not remembering his name. "And no. I saw him a few days ago, but I haven't seen or heard from him since."

Now that I think about it, that's not wrong. I haven't heard a peep or seen him or Abara in, what? Three days? Maybe four? It's amazing how fast, yet how slow time has been moving.

"I wonder what all they've been doing."

Mrs. Warner studies me, then clears her throat. "I'm sure they're working hard at trying to bring Rui home – which they will." She takes a sip of her own tea. "How have you and that Mr. Key fellow been getting along? He's the one who put you in that swanky hotel, wasn't he?"

My throat goes dry. Key. I...still haven't told Mrs. Warner or anyone else about the allegations being held against him. Allegations that...that I hate to admit I am believing more and more. But allegations I haven't shared, nonetheless. Because how do I share that? How do I tell people about the true horror and intent that was held under his façade? I mean, eventually, it is bound to get out. But...am I ready to say any of this out loud?

"We...nothing has developed."

Her expression falls. "Oh. Well, I'm sorry to hear that. Though, I must say I'm surprised. You two seemed like you had something."

We did. We did look like we had something. I thought we did. But in the end, it was all a lie. Just one fat lie.

"Yeah, well, we don't."

She observes me. "I see."

She opens her mouth but closes it. She has questions – I can tell, but I don't think she knows how to ask them. So, it's better not to ask them at all. Better safe than sorry, I suppose.

Eventually, the ticking of her clock becomes background noise, the two of us not really sure where to go from here. I can tell she feels awkward having heard that. I understand, though. I get it. She didn't know. And I'm still in shock.

At some point, Mrs. Warner flips on the TV. Probably to fill the silence. The screen lights with life as some sitcom plays. I don't know the name of it. She begins to flick through the channels. Comedy. Cooking show. Criminal Minds. The news.

My breath hitches.

On the screen, I can see them. The uniforms of the TSC officers. Uniforms that I saw once before. From the last time, they were flashing across a screen. Black and gray armored suits with helmets. All running. All moving. All reacting.

Freak ~Juuzou x Reader AU~Onde as histórias ganham vida. Descobre agora