In which I fall in love with my sister's brother.
"I should hate you." He whispers against my lips.
"You do." I say and he nods his head
"Then why does it feel like I'd burn the world for you if you asked."
Karina Poleman never planned to marry Nich...
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Knew he was killer, first time that I saw him. Taylor Swift- Ready for it.( Slowed+ reverb)
I don’t even remember the drive to the orphanage. One moment, I’m gripping my phone like a lifeline, and the next, I’m pulling up outside the gates, my tires screeching to a stop. My heart pounds in my chest, a violent rhythm of fear and fury.
The place is in chaos. Caretakers are speaking in hushed, panicked voices. A few kids are crying, their fear thick in the air. The moment I step out of the car, the head caretaker, Mrs. Alvarez, or Sr Agather, rushes toward me, her face pale and strained.
“You came,” she breathes out, relief evident.
“Where’s the note?” I cut straight to the point. My voice is sharp, all business, but inside, I’m unraveling.
She hesitates for just a second before leading me inside. “We didn’t tell the police about it,” she whispers. “Like you said.”
Good. I can’t risk them interfering. Not when I know exactly who’s behind this.
She hands me a small folded piece of paper. I unfold it with shaky hands. The message is short, simple, and designed to send ice through my veins:
“Time’s up. Let’s talk.” and on the other side it read, "your move."
No name. No signature. But it doesn’t need one. I know exactly who it’s from.
My grip tightens on the paper. He’s playing me. Showing me exactly how much control he has. I haven’t responded to his offer, so he forced my hand in the most brutal way possible.
Mrs. Alvarez watches me carefully. “Who did this?” she asks quietly.
I swallow hard. “I’ll handle it.”
She doesn’t look convinced, but she nods. “Just bring her back.”
I will. No matter what it takes.
I pull out my phone, my fingers trembling as I dial the number I’ve been avoiding. It rings twice before he picks up.
“I was wondering when you’d call,” his voice comes through smooth, calm—like he isn’t holding a six-year-old girl hostage.
“Where is she?” I snap, not bothering with pleasantries.
“She’s safe,” he says easily, like we’re discussing the weather. “For now.”
