Out of Reach | Mikhaiah

Chapter 39

Disclaimer: This is pure fiction. Any similarities to real people, places, or events are purely coincidental. Read, enjoy, and don't take it too seriously!

- ✦ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭 ✦ -

Arisha's POV:

The drive to the mansion was suffocating.

Mikhazra's hand rested on the steering wheel, her other arm draped casually as she stole glances at me. I could feel her concern even in the silence.

"Bub," she finally said, voice soft but firm. "What's going on?"

I stared out the window, watching the city blur into the distant lights. "Nothing."

"Arisha."

She rarely used my full name.

I bit my lip, gripping the hem of my coat. "I just... need to talk to my dad. Alone."

Mikhazra exhaled slowly. "And you can't tell me why?"

I didn't answer.

The truth was-I was scared.

I was scared that if I said it out loud, if I told her what I planned to do, she'd stop me.

And I couldn't afford to be stopped.

When we reached the mansion, she pulled up to the entrance, letting the engine hum into a quiet idle. The weight of her gaze bore into me as I reached for the door.

But before I could step out, her hand caught mine.

"Whatever it is, bub," her voice was laced with quiet determination, "you don't have to face it alone."

I forced a small smile. A lie. A reassurance I knew she wouldn't believe.

"I'll see you later, Azra."

I stepped out.

And I didn't look back.

The study was cold.

Dad sat behind his desk, his fingers steepled together, watching me with unreadable eyes.

I didn't waste time.

"Dad, please." My voice was firm, but there was a tremor beneath it. "I want this to end."

He sighed, rubbing his temples. "Arisha, we've been doing everything we can-"

"Not enough!" My voice cracked. "Not enough, Dad. I don't want to keep living like this, like any second someone's going to come for me. I already settled down-I already built a life! But I can't even live it freely because of them!"

His face darkened. "We're trying."

I clenched my fists. "Then let me end it."

His brows furrowed. "What are you talking about?"

I swallowed the lump in my throat. "They want my blood, right? Then give it to them. I'll give it to them."

My father's expression shifted, a flicker of shock and something else-something deeper, something colder.

"No."

"Dad-"

"NO, ARISHA!" He slammed his fist against the desk, the sound echoing through the room.

Tears welled in my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. "Then tell me what else I can do. Because I can't keep living like this!"

Silence.

The air between us crackled with unspoken words.

Then, finally, his shoulders sagged. And for the first time in my life, my father looked... tired.