Chapter 5: Small Acts of Defiance

I flinch, my sobs turning into hiccups. I can’t stop crying, no matter how hard I try. My whole body shakes.

Mason suddenly freezes, then slowly lets go of my hand. The air shifts, the tension breaking.

He pulls back, his face unreadable. I rub my wrist, trying to calm myself.

A vivid red mark appears on my pale wrist. I rub at it, trying to hide the evidence.

The skin burns, but I don’t say anything. I look away, ashamed.

His tone is stiff. “Why are you crying?” He sounds almost annoyed, but there’s something else in his eyes—something I can’t name.

Thinking he hates my crying, I immediately press my lips together, trying not to make a sound. I hold my breath, counting to ten.

The silence stretches between us, thick and uncomfortable. I wish I could disappear.

Unable to stop my tears, Mason silently wipes them away for me. His thumb brushes my cheek, slow and careful.

I sniffle, grateful and embarrassed all at once. My cheeks are hot.

“Wound ointment... for you.” The words come out in a rush.

I thrust the tube at him, desperate to help. My hands shake, but I don’t let go. I hope he understands.

I shove the tube into his hands and try to leave. I stand, my legs wobbly.

The door feels a mile away. I just want to escape before I make things worse. My breath is ragged.

Savannah is strict. Soon, people will notice I’m not in my room. My heart pounds as I glance at the window.

If anyone finds me here, I’ll never hear the end of it. I hurry, trying not to make a sound.

After squatting for so long, my legs are numb. As soon as I stand up, I stumble. Pain shoots through my calves.

Mason’s hand shoots out, steadying me. I look at him, startled.

Mason reaches out and supports my waist. His grip is firm, but gentle.

He holds me up until I can stand on my own. I mumble a thank you, too embarrassed to meet his eyes. My cheeks burn.

In the darkness, I can’t see his reddened ears—only that his gaze seems less fierce than during the day. There’s a softness there, a hint of something kinder.

It makes my chest ache. I wish I could say something, but I stay silent.

After a moment, I gather my courage and say, “I... I’ll tell Savannah to let you go.”

The promise hangs in the air, fragile but real. I hope he believes me. My hands are clenched.

After saying that, I don’t look back and run away. My feet pound against the grass.

I don’t stop until I’m safe inside, the door locked behind me. My heart is still racing. I press my back to the door, catching my breath.

I don’t know if it’s because I snuck out last night and caught a chill, but when I wake up in the morning, my head feels heavy and my body weak. The sunlight is harsh.

Every muscle aches. I pull the covers up to my chin, wishing I could stay in bed all day. But I remember my promise to Mason, and guilt pushes me up. My head throbs.

But I still remember my promise to Mason and hurry to find Savannah. I throw on a sweater, my hair a mess, and stumble out of my room.

The house is quiet, the air thick with the smell of coffee and toast. I rub my eyes, determined to find her.

Years ago, Dad died overseas and Mom passed away from grief. After that, Savannah kept the whole Whitaker household running. She makes all the decisions, big and small. Her strength is legendary.

Even the neighbors talk about her, how she keeps everything together. I wish I could be like her—fearless, unbreakable. But I’m not. I’m just me.

As soon as I step into her yard, I see someone kneeling in the grass. The morning dew sparkles on the blades.

For a second, I think I’m imagining things. But no—there he is, Mason, his head bowed, hands resting on his thighs. My heart skips.

It’s Mason. He looks up, his eyes unreadable. There’s something about the way he kneels—defiant, but resigned. I swallow hard.