The Butterfly and The Moth

53

The past few days, I've moved through Sterling's house like a ghost.

Every creak of the floorboards, every whisper of the wind through the trees, it sent a jolt of terror racing through my veins.

I am not relieved by telling the police what happened. I am not relieved that Daisy knows. I am not relieved.

I'm in a cage. I'm stuck in the cage. I am a moth who's been caught. But I am not a butterfly, so why would someone catch a moth?

The guest bedroom has become my refuge, the one place where I can close the door and lock away the world outside. Sterling's been patient with me, gentle like he always is. He sits with me. He kisses my forehead. He tries to understand.

I don't think he does. I think he thought that this might be over, but it's not over.

Today, the silence is too loud. The quiet house is too empty, and my thoughts are too loud in my head.

I was pacing the room, wringing my hands as I stared out the window. We had to go back to classes, and the mere thought of stepping outside this safe haven sent my heart into a flurry.

Sterling joined me in the guest room. I was standing by the window, lost in the terrifying abyss of my thoughts.

"Dahlia," he said, his voice like a lullaby that momentarily stills the chaos within me.

I turned to look at him. He was standing at the doorway, his tall frame filling the space. His eyes were filled with a mixture of worry and determination.

"We need to go to school," he said gently, stepping into the room. His eyes searched mine, trying to gauge my reaction.

I shook my head, my heart beginning to pound like a wild drum in my chest. The thought of going back, of stepping into the outside world, of facing Daisy or the possibility of running into Erik was enough to make me feel lightheaded.

I don't know what happened at the police station. I don't know if he's still there. I don't know if they let him go. I don't want to know. I want to pretend none of this happened.

"I don't want to," I told him, my hands clenching the fabric of my dress. The fear was all-consuming, wrapping around me like a python, squeezing tighter and tighter until I can barely breathe.

He stepped closer, his eyes never leaving mine.

"Dahlia," he said, his voice so soft it's barely a whisper, "You can't hide forever. Your life isn't over. It's just beginning."

"I'm scared," I said, my voice more like a whisper. It felt as though I've given voice to my deepest, darkest fear.

"I know," he said, reaching out to take my hand. His touch sent a jolt of calmness through me, grounding me. "But you don't have to do this alone. I'm here with you. I'll stand by your side."

"I don't want to face the world," I admitted, my voice trembling with the effort it takes to hold back the tears. "Everyone is going to know what happened."

Sterling squeezes my hand, offering a comforting warmth.

"Dahlia, you are stronger than you think. You've been through hell and back. But remember, you did not go through it alone. You have me. You have Colt. We're here for you."

"But what about Erik?" I asked, the mere mention of his name sends a shudder through me.

"Erik's not going to hurt you anymore, Dahlia," Sterling said, with a firm tome. "He can't. You saw what I did to him last time. I won't hold back next time if he tries to hurt you again."