Chapter 82
Aaliyah
The chill in the house was so strong, clawing into my skin. I looked ahead, staring at my body cradled in Tristan's arms. His face was filled with fear. He held me tight, screaming my name as he shook me.
Every part of me ached to call out for Tristan and tell him I was here.
"Tristan?" I called out.
He didn't turn. He couldn't hear me. My knees weakened, and my hands trembled as I reached out to touch him, my fingertips inches from his shoulder.
A loud creak broke the silence in the house, and relief flooded me. I wasn't alone here. There was others like me trapped on this side. I turned around to see the door open wide. A figure stepped out, and my breath caught.
Jacob—the guy Tristan had killed—stepped into the light. How could I forget his face? I still remembered the pain I went through because of him, all because he wanted revenge on Tristan. And I was the scapegoat for it.
