Chapter 10
Aurora
* 51%8
It had been a week since Kaiden vanished from the apartment with Ariel, and in that time, I hadn’t seen him once. Ryker was the one who stayed with me and Layla as usual. Had I asked about Kaiden? Of course I bad–despite how much of an asshole he could be, I couldn’t deny I was drawn to him.
Ryker claimed Kaiden was busy with business, but I wasn’t naive enough to believe that entirely. He was clearly avoiding me, likely to keep his girlfriend from stirring up trouble. Through Ryker, I’d learned Kaiden owned a club, which explained why he was often away.
“Are you ready, Rory?” Ryker called from the living room. I nodded, even though he couldn’t see me, and left my room to meet him by the front door.
“You’re looking good, Rory,” he said, his eyes briefly scanning my outfit.
I was wearing a simple white blouse and blue jeans, my hair tied back in a neat ponytail. “Thank you,” I whispered, my voice still quiet but growing steadier with practice.
They had arranged for me to see a therapist. I was working on learning to speak, and though progress was slow, I was improving. Today was my last session for the week, and Ryker, as usual, was taking me.
Each session with Dr. Hall gave me a little more confidence, and I had resolved to make some changes in my life. Ever since the incident with Kaiden, I’d made it a goal to build my self–esteem and stop hiding from the world. It started with something small: wearing my hair up instead of letting it hang over my face like a shield.
“Let’s go,” Ryker said, pulling me out of my thoughts as he guided me out of the apartment.
When we arrived at the hospital, Ryker led me inside. The lounge was filled with patients, a testament to how well–known the facility was. Getting an appointment with someone as respected as Dr. Hall must have cost a fortune. I still couldn’t figure out why Kaiden and Ryker were being so generous. Kaiden didn’t strike me as the type to go out of his way for anyone without expecting something in return. Grateful as I was, I couldn’t shake the feeling that there’d be a price to pay eventually.
“Good afternoon, little Aurora,” Dr. Hall greeted warmly as I stepped into his office. He was a middle–aged man with a kind face and a few streaks of gray in his dark hair.
“Good afternoon, Dr. Hall,” Ryker replied beside me, his tone unusually stiff.
As I took a seat, I couldn’t help but notice the brief, cold exchange of glances between Ryker and Dr. Hall. It was subtle, but it was there. Was I imagining it, or was there something unspoken between them?
“Oh, you’re here as well, Mr. Slade,” Dr. Hall said, acknowledging Ryker with a polite nod before turning his attention back to me. “So, how are you doing, little Aurora?” he asked, his kind smile unwavering.
The way he called me little always made me feel uncomfortable, though I knew it was from a place of love. It was subtle reminder of my petite stature that I was self–conscious about.
“I’m… fine, Dr. Hall,” I mumbled with a small smile.
He smiled warmly. “I can see the progress. Shall we begin the session?”
His eyes flicked to Ryker, silently signaling it was time for him to leave. Without a word, Ryker spun on his heel and exited
the office. Dr. Hall always insisted on conducting the sessions alone, believing it would make me feel more comfortable opening up. He wanted me to focus on expressing myself, without the pressure of someone else in the room.
1/3
20.33 wed, У Арг SM
Chapter 10
“Care to tell me how your mother died?” Dr. Hall’s voice was calm but probing, breaking through the heary alence I stiffened, every muscle in my body tightening as the question dragged up a memory I desperately wanted to legen
“We can’t move forward if you don’t talk about it,” he continued, leaning forward slightly. I was told you were longty traumatized after witnessing her brutal death. His words were blunt, but his tone was gentle I nodded my mind dipping unwillingly back to that night–the night that shattered my world. The nightmares of it chased me every time I cinsed my
eyes.
“I… I was a mischievous kid,” I started, the words tasting foreign and heavy on my tongue. Forcing them out felt like lifting a boulder.
Dr. Hall slid a blank sheet of paper toward me. “If it’s too hard to say, you can write it down”
I shook my head. “No. I need to say it.” My throat tightened, but I pushed forward, the guilt clawing at me. I killed her?”
A single tear escaped, tracing a hot line down my cheek. My hands fidgeted in my lap as I struggled to piece together the words, but Dr. Hall waited, patiently.
“If only I hadn’t insisted on that road trip…” My voice cracked, and the tears came fast. My chest heared as I tried to breative through them. Dr. Hall handed me a tissue, and I wiped at my face, hating the weakness in me.
“I was told it was an animal attack,” he said carefully, his pen hovering over his notepad. “But the details were vague for were the only witness, and afterward, you couldn’t or wouldn’t speak. No one ever knew exactly what happened” He looked up, his eyes studying me intently. “What did you see, Aurora? What kind of animal was it?
“It wasn’t an animal.” The words left my mouth before I could stop them. “It was a human…but not human. Like a dog, bu also not. It was a monster.”
Dr. Hall’s expression didn’t change, but there was something in his eyes–a flicker of recognition that sent a chill down my spine. It was gone as quickly as it came, replaced by his usual professional calm.
“Can you describe this…monster?”
I shook my head, the memory too vivid, too grotesque to conjure up in words. My stomach churned at the thought “That’s alright,” he said, setting his pen down. “You’ve already taken a huge step by opening up to me. But you need to understand–it wasn’t your fault. None of it. You were just a child, Aurora.”
His reassurance soothed something deep in me, but the guilt lingered, heavy and immovable, a weight I couldn’t yet shed. “Our session is over for today,” Dr. Hall said with a warm smile. “You did well. I’ll see you next time, little Aurora.”
I nodded, standing on shaky legs. As I walked out of his office, I felt a faint glimmer of relief. But deep inside, I knew the road to letting go of that night’s horror was far from over.
I stepped into the waiting room expecting to find Ryker, as he always waited for me there. But he was nowhere to be seen. Puzzled, I paced the hospital’s corridors, scanning for any sign of him. It wasn’t like him to vanish without a word.
Then, out of the corner of my eye, I spotted him. He was in a patient’s room, standing beside the bed and holding the hand of someone lying there. My curiosity got the better of me, and I crept closer, careful not to make a sound.
“Aurora.” The sound of my name stopped me dead in my tracks. But it wasn’t the suddenness of it that startled me—it was the voice. Deep, familiar, and undeniably his.
Chapter 11