She charges at him and the breath in my lungs stills. The hand holding the knife rises into the air and I blink, the fear choking me. And in that blink, Drew moves, so lightning fast that I barely see it. He has the knife out of her hand and her arms wrapped around her back in a second.
“You need to teach me that move,” I whisper in awe, and I’m not sure if he heard me.
“Go,” he demands, jerking his head over my shoulder.
I shake my head. I can’t leave him. I won’t. Not while he’s still in danger, not while he still has her in his clutches. He doesn’t know what she has done, what she is capable of doing. I won’t leave him alone with her.
She struggles in his arms, her face contorted with anger and disbelief. The room suddenly feels smaller, tighter, and just when I think I won’t be able to take another breath, the place is swarming with people.
Firefighters rush in, and one reaches under my armpits, lifting me off the floor. My dress catches, tearing at the bottom on something as he drags me out.
I can’t look away from Drew, from the destruction around him as he follows us out, dragging Sophia with him. He reminds me of a gladiator with his hair down, the fire burning around him.
Fresh air hits my face and I gasp in a lungful of it. My lashes flutter as the air stings my eyes.
It all hits me. Everything at once. Scott bumping into me. Scott manipulating and gaslighting me. The night he ripped me apart.
And after.
My eyes close as a wave of grief hits me. The flowers, the notes, Amber, and then our car crash.
Scott’s body being found. Me being taken in for questioning.
My library.
Everyone has a story to tell. Everyone has a trauma of some kind to share. This is my story. My trauma.
And I found Drew and true love because of it.
This woman turned her nightmare into someone else’s. She validated her actions because of it. And for that, I came face-to-face with true evil. A person who shows no remorse or sorrow for what she has done.
For the lives that were lost.
Even now, she fights to get out of the cuffs the police have smacked around her wrists, like she’s the victim in all of this. And at one point, she was the victim in her story. But now she is the villain.
She twisted everything inside her head as if it somehow proved her narrative of the story was the right one. It didn’t. All it had done was make it crumble.
And she nearly took us all with her.
I stagger forward, squinting to take it all in around me.
Madison is lying on a bed in the back of the ambulance, her mum and dad crowding the entrance, waiting for the paramedics to check her over.
I blink, my eyes watering.
Hayden is standing at the end of Lily’s drive, arguing with her dad and brother whilst her mum shakes her head.
I blink through the haze, my attention going back to the library and the smoke bellowing from the windows.
My breath hitches and I keep going, finding Nora safe and sound, sobbing into her father’s chest.
I stagger again, my gaze going to the other ambulance where Olivia and Harriet are being treated.
Then back to the woman who caused all of this.
I push through the crowd and rush toward her. Dad, who was already storming toward me, catches me around the waist, pulling me back when he figures out what I’m going to do.
“You crazy bitch,” I scream, shocking not only my dad, but my mother.
“Charlotte,” he whispers.
Drew snaps around at the sound of my voice, then says something to the police officer before rushing to my side. “She burnt my books.”
“The firemen are dealing with it,” Dad assures me.
Drew reaches for me, but when I once again go to make a move for her, he pulls me back. “Your head is bleeding. We need to get you looked at.”
“She hurt my friends. My family. She burnt my books,” I choke out.
“The crazy bitch did more than burn your books,” Hayden retorts, blocking my view from the woman in question. “She murdered her husband and other people.”
PC Brown—Megan—stops mid-conversation at Hayden’s words. She scans us over before taking a step away from the other officer she was talking to nearby. “Do you have proof of this?”
Hayden curls her lip. “I won’t need proof once I tell you the horror story of her youth. Fucking bitch thinks it’s a licence to kill,” she returns. “Or you could give me five minutes with the psycho and let me return the favour.” She points to her head, still furious she got hurt. “After, she’ll sing like a canary.”
Megan scans the area, making sure no other officers can hear us. “You need to calm down. Watch what you are saying.”
I struggle to get free from Drew, my chest rising and falling. I can hear my pulse beating wildly in my ears. “No. I won’t calm down. My books. My books are gone. She hurt Madison. She hurt Hayden. She hurt my friends. She hurt Marlene. She—"
“Like we will lose sleep over that bitch,” Hayden interrupts.
Drew tightens his grip on me. “Charlotte, babe, please, calm down.”
“No,” I scream. It’s so loud, so raw, it feels like a thousand razor blades are slicing down my throat. “No.”
I push him away again, and the hurt, the devastation on his expression as he goes to reach for me and I step back, threatens me to my knees.
“Charlotte, please,” he pleads.
“Baby,” Mum chokes out.
I step away from them and they surround me like I’m a wild animal they’re about to capture. I can’t take it. None of it.
It has all hit me.
“I’ve been fighting for as long as I can remember to live my dream,” I whisper, then turn to my dad. “You told me to dream big.” I turn to Mum. “And you told me to follow my dreams, no matter what they were.”
“Baby,” she whispers, stepping forward.
I hold my hand up, stopping her, my vision blurry with tears. “And I did. And he…” I gulp around the ball in my throat. “He turned it into a nightmare. She turned it into a nightmare. They twisted my dream and made me feel like I was selfish for reaching for it. But I wasn’t being selfish.”
“No, baby, you weren’t,” Dad replies.
I turn to Drew, my shoulders dropping, my heart soaring. “For so long I thought my dream was having everything picture perfect. It was a job I loved doing, owning my home and having a husband with children to raise. Then you came into my life.”
A mask drops over his expression and I can’t figure out what he’s thinking. He scans the crowd watching me, watching the spectacle I’m making of myself, but I don’t care. Each breath is sharp, heavy, and with it, so are my emotions. “Why don’t we get you looked at by a paramedic?”
I close my eyes, savouring his voice. When I open them, more tears gather. “It hit me inside the library. It’s not about the job you have, the house you own, or the car you drive. It’s not even really about getting married and having children. Because thousands of people have those things and still aren’t happy.”
“I don’t understand,” he replies, taking a small step toward me. I don’t stop him, not this time.
I meet his gaze, unblinking and steady. “I was wrong about my dream. It wasn’t about the things I had, the possessions I held. It was the love of my family. The love from my friends. It was you. I can live without it all except for you and them. Never without you. It’s you who I’ve been searching for, who I felt was missing inside of me.”