My Girlfriend Is A Serial Killer [G!P] [COMPLETED]

Freen held Becky tightly, her hands instinctively finding their way into the blonde locks, gently running her fingers through them in soothing strokes.

“What do you remember about your childhood?” Freen asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Becky exhaled shakily. “Nothing… at least until now.” Her voice was distant, as if she were reaching into the depths of her own mind. “All I can remember is after Mum married Dad. After we moved into this mansion. Everything before that is a blur. I remember that we lived outside the city—at least, I did. I remember certain things here and there. And then there’s that nightmare I kept seeing… a little girl crying for help.”

Her voice cracked, and Freen felt her chest tighten. After reading the letter, Becky had been silent for a moment before she fell into Freen’s arms, burying her face in her chest. Quiet sobs racked through her small frame, her fingers gripping onto Freen’s shirt as though letting go would shatter her completely.

Freen held her even closer. “I remember,” she murmured, pressing her lips against the top of Becky’s head. “I held you through many of those nightmares. You think that little girl was you?”

Becky nodded against her. “Yes.” A strangled sob left her lips, her entire body trembling. “All this time, and I never thought it could be me.”

Freen closed her eyes, swallowing the lump in her throat. The pain in Becky’s voice made her ache in ways she couldn’t explain. But this… this was the moment. Time for answers.

“What’s in the letter, Becky?” she asked gently. “What made you this way? Why did your mum take her own life?”

Becky slowly lifted her head, her teary eyes locking onto Freen’s with so much vulnerability it nearly broke her. She hesitated before slowly standing up and stepping away, wrapping her arms around herself as if trying to hold herself together.

“I don’t think I’m ready to talk about it,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “It’s all just sinking in… and I’m scared of what will happen once it does.”

The fear in her voice was undeniable.

She turned back to Freen, her fingers trembling as she reached out, taking one of Freen’s hands and placing the letter in it.

“Here. Read it.”

Freen stared at her. “Becky—”

“No. Read it,” Becky insisted, her voice firm despite the raw emotion in her eyes. “I want you to know everything.”

Freen hesitated, but before she could say another word, Becky turned and started walking toward the door.

“Where are you going?” Freen asked, her voice shaking slightly, a deep sense of unease settling in her chest.

“Out,” Becky said. “I need to clear my head.”

Freen’s stomach twisted. “Becky, I don’t think—”

“I promise I won’t do anything,” Becky cut in, turning back for just a second. Her green eyes held a silent plea—a promise wrapped in love, in trust, in understanding.

Freen exhaled shakily, nodding. “Please be careful,” she whispered.

Becky gave her a small, sad smile before stepping out into the night.

Freen sat back down, releasing a deep sigh. She stared at the envelope in her hands, bracing herself for the inevitable.

Then, with slightly trembling fingers, she opened it.