When the time felt right, I grabbed my bag and headed out into the corridors of the Vault. It didn't take long to realize something was off. The usual murmur of activity had escalated into something louder, more chaotic.
Vendors were shouting at each other, arguments spilling into the narrow passageways. A few of them were pushing and shoving, while others tried to deescalate the tension. It felt like the entire Vault was simmering on the edge of a boiling point.
I scanned the crowds, searching for any sign of Farrah. She was always around, always slipping between people unnoticed. But now… now I couldn't find her anywhere.
My heart started to pound, fear creeping in as I pulled out my phone and dialed her number. No answer. I tried again Still nothing. Panic surged in my chest. I knew something was wrong.
I shoved my phone back into my bag and pushed through the crowds, my eyes darting around, searching every face. But there was no sign of her. The tension in the corridors thickened as I frantically looked through the stalls and shadows, trying to stay calm, trying to think.
But then, out of nowhere, a hand grabbed me—rough, strong—and yanked me into a dark room. I barely had time to react before the door slammed shut behind me, plunging the room into near darkness.
My heart raced, my body tensing as I spun around to face whoever had pulled me in.
Aspen.
She stood in front of me, her expression cold, cruel. But it wasn't just her. Behind her, tied to a chair, was Farrah. My stomach dropped at the sight.
Farrah looked rough—beaten, bloodied. Her face was swollen, one eye nearly shut from the bruising. Blood dripped from her head, her nose clearly broken. Her mouth was taped shut, and her arms were bound tightly behind her. She was slumped over, barely conscious, but her eyes were open, filled with fear and pain.
Aspen smiled, a twisted, venomous grin. "Looking for her?" she asked, her voice dripping with malice. My heart raced, adrenaline surging as I took in the scene. Farrah was hurt—badly. And Aspen… she was enjoying every second of it.
Aspen's smirk deepened; her eyes gleaming with sadistic satisfaction as she watched me take in the scene. Farrah's beaten body slumped in the chair, her breathing shallow, but her eyes—those terrified, pleading eyes—stared at me with a desperation that made my heart twist painfully in my chest. Aspen took a slow, deliberate step toward me, her heels echoing on the cold concrete floor. "Your little sewer rat has caused quite a stir. Stirring up trouble in my Vault. You should've known better than to involve someone like her."
"Please," I choked out, my voice trembling as I took a step closer to Farrah, trying to keep my hands from shaking. "Please, don't hurt her. It's not too late. We can work something out."
Aspen let out a cold, mocking laugh. "Too late? Oh, darling, it was too late the moment you decided to cross me. Negotiations?" She scoffed, stepping even closer until I could feel the ice in her voice prickle against my skin. "No. I don't want to work things out. I want control."
She turned her gaze toward Farrah, who flinched at the attention. The sight of her bruised and broken made my stomach churn, my pulse thundering in my ears. "I should kill you both right now," Aspen said, her tone as casual as if she were discussing the weather. She circled me slowly, her predatory gaze never leaving my face. "But there's just one problem. Your little… relationship with Oliver has complicated things."
I froze. She knew. Of course, she knew. My breath hitched, panic threatening to claw its way to the surface. "This doesn't have to go any further, Aspen," I said, my voice tight, trying to reason with her, even though I knew it was useless. "We can figure something out. A deal—"
Her sharp, humorless laugh cut through the air, and she shook her head. "I don't want a deal, Lux. Are you not fucking listening? I want control of the Vault." She leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "I could have killed Oliver. I considered it, believe me. But I realized something." She paused, tilting her head slightly as if savoring the moment. Aspen smiled, slow and venomous. "Oliver has allies, connections, secrets. Things I haven't figured out yet. Things that are crucial to running the Vault. And that's the only reason I haven't slit his throat while he sleeps. Because, for now, I still need him."
My heart pounded in my chest. She was telling me everything—laying her cards on the table because she thought it was already over. That she had already won.
I swallowed hard, my eyes moving to Farrah, who watched us both with wide, terrified eyes. Aspen took a step back, her hands resting lightly on her hips, as if she was merely surveying her work. "But don't think for a second that means I won't kill him eventually. Once I've gotten what I need from him, once I've unraveled the secrets he's been hiding…" She trailed off, her smile widening. "Well, let's just say the Vault will finally belong to someone who knows how to use it."
Her words twisted in my gut, the weight of them sinking deep into my bones. I had to think fast. If Aspen succeeded… there'd be nothing left for anyone.
"Aspen," I started, my voice shaking but determined, "You can't do this alone. You might think you can just take over, but the Vault is already turning against you. You can't control everything. People are fed up. You saw the chaos out there—"
"I did," Aspen interrupted, her eyes narrowing. "But don't mistake unrest for revolution. I still have power. And as long as I have Oliver…" Her voice trailed off, and she shot me a knowing look. "Or should I say, until I no longer need him."
I could feel it—the threat looming over us all. Oliver's life was hanging by a thread, and the only reason he was still breathing was because of what he knew.
"Where's Oliver?" I asked, my voice quieter than I intended, but steady.
Aspen's smile widened, cruel and mocking. "Oh, darling." She laughed, a low, icy sound that sent chills down my spine. "He's probably still running around trying to clean up the mess you made. All that commotion in the Vault—the vendors, the unrest. It's your doing, Lux. Your deals, your meddling. Oliver's probably knee-deep in it right now, trying to figure out how to calm things down."
She took a step closer to me, her smirk growing more vicious with every word. "And isn't it ironic? You think you're helping him, but all you've done is make things worse. I've been running the Vault for years, pulling strings, keeping everything in line. You? You've been here for what, five minutes? And now everything is crumbling around him, thanks to you."
My stomach twisted, her words sinking in like knives. The vendors, the chaos I'd seen in the corridors—it was all fallout from the cracks I'd been trying to exploit in Aspen's control. But I hadn't expected it to spiral like this. I hadn't expected things to escalate so quickly.
"Oliver can handle it," I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt. Aspen's eyes darkened, her smile fading slightly.
"Oh, I know he can. That's why I've kept him around as long as I have." She leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "But strength doesn't last forever, Lux. Sooner or later, even the strongest man will break."
My heart raced, fear clawing its way up my throat as I realized how precarious this situation really was. Oliver was out there, in the middle of the chaos I'd helped ignite, trying to control a situation that was quickly spiraling beyond his grasp. And here I was, trapped in a room with Aspen and a beaten, bloody Farrah, with no way to warn him.
"You think you're so clever," Aspen continued, circling me like a predator stalking its prey. "But the truth is, you've just been playing into my hands. I've seen this coming for a long time, Lux. People like you, always so eager to prove yourselves, so desperate to be part of the game. But you don't know how it works. You're not like me. You never will be."
I clenched my fists, fighting the rising panic in my chest. I couldn't let her get to me. I couldn't let her win. "You don't know what I'm capable of," I said, my voice low but firm.
Aspen's smile returned, cold and predatory. "Oh, I know exactly what you're capable of. And that's what makes this so fun."
She turned her gaze to Farrah, her eyes glinting with cruel amusement. "But enough talk." My breath caught in my throat as Aspen pulled a gun from her belt, her eyes never leaving mine, as if daring me to make a move.
Farrah whimpered , her eyes wide with terror.
"Aspen," I whispered, my voice shaking despite my efforts to stay calm. "Please. Don't do this."
Aspen's smile never wavered. "You're not in a position to beg, Lux. Not anymore." The crack of the gunshot was deafening, reverberating off the cold, damp walls.
For a split second, everything froze. My heart stopped, my breath caught in my throat, and time itself seemed to slow as the world around me imploded. Farrah's body jerked, her head snapping back with a sickening force. Blood sprayed across the room, splattering against the wall, against me. I didn't even hear her last breath. It was over in an instant.
My knees buckled, hitting the floor hard. My ears were ringing, the high-pitched sound piercing through the chaos, drowning out everything else. I couldn't breathe. Couldn't move. I could only stare at Farrah's lifeless body, still tied to the chair, her head slumped forward, blood pooling at her feet.
No.
I tried to scream, tried to cry out, but nothing came. My throat tightened, my chest constricted, the weight of the moment crushing me from the inside. The world blurred as tears filled my eyes, my vision swimming with the horror of what had just happened.
Farrah was gone.
My Farrah.
The one person I'd trusted, the one who had become like family, like a sister to me—gone. Just like that. One pull of the trigger, and she was ripped from this world, from me. My body trembled, my hands gripping the floor as I tried to steady myself, tried to hold on to something, anything, to keep from completely shattering. But I couldn't. I was breaking.
The ringing in my ears faded just enough for Aspen's voice to cut through, sharp and cruel. "You see, Lux," she said, her tone casual, almost conversational, as if she hadn't just murdered someone in cold blood. "This is what happens when you try to play a game you don't understand."
I couldn't look at her. I couldn't tear my eyes away from Farrah's body, from the blood soaking into the floor beneath her. "You thought you could outmaneuver me," Aspen continued, circling me like a vulture. "But this is how it ends. With your little sewer rat dead, and you on your knees."
I tried to speak, but my throat was too tight, my voice strangled by the grief and the shock coursing through me.
Aspen crouched down in front of me, her face close to mine, her cold eyes boring into me with a satisfaction that made my stomach churn. "And now," she whispered, "you get to live with it. You get to live with the knowledge that you brought this on her."
I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms so hard I could feel the skin breaking, the pain cutting through the numbness. I wanted to scream, to lash out, to tear her apart with my bare hands. But I couldn't move.
I was paralyzed.
Aspen's voice softened, dripping with mock concern. "Tell me, Lux… how does it feel to know that you couldn't protect her? That you were too weak, too stupid, to save someone who trusted you?"
I couldn't do anything but stare at the blood pooling around Farrah's lifeless body, my mind screaming in a way my mouth couldn't. The weight of Aspen's words crashed down on me like a tidal wave, pulling me under, drowning me in guilt and despair.
Blood pooled around her feet, seeping into the cracks in the floor, her wide, unseeing eyes a testament to the horror she'd endured.
"You're pathetic," Aspen sneered. "Oliver's not going to save you," Aspen said, circling me like a shark sensing blood in the water. "He's too busy trying to put out the fires you started. By the time he realizes what's really happening, it'll be too late. And when he does, when he sees what's left of you…" She smiled, a twisted, sick grin that made my skin crawl. "Maybe I'll let him keep you. As a reminder of his failure."
My stomach twisted, bile rising in my throat as the world blurred around me. Aspen was right. This was my failure—my plan, my mistakes, my consequences. And now Farrah had paid the price.
Aspen stepped back, surveying the scene with satisfaction. "Now, Lux," she said, her tone almost playful, "I'm going to leave you here with your little friend. You can mourn her, wallow in your failure." She turned on her heel, walking toward the door with a calm, predatory grace.
I didn't move.
I couldn't.
The door clicked shut behind her, leaving me alone with Farrah's body, the silence of the room pressing in on me like a vice.
Farrah was gone. Oliver was in danger. And I had nothing left. I don't know how long I stayed there, crumpled on the cold concrete floor, my heart shattering into a million pieces as the weight of everything crushed me. Time lost meaning in the haze of my grief, my guilt.
My eyes landed on Farrah's bag, tossed carelessly a few feet away. A fresh wave of pain hit me as I moved toward it, my knees buckling as I reached for it. The tears I thought I'd held back came rushing out, hot and relentless, spilling down my face as I clutched the worn fabric to my chest. It was all I had left of her now. All that remained of her besides memories. I buried my face into the bag, inhaling the faint scent of her that still clung to the material.
My sobs wracked my body, and I let them come, holding the bag tighter, as if by sheer force I could make her not feel so far away. Farrah was gone, but this… this was something. A piece of her I could carry with me, something tangible to anchor me to her memory. I couldn't let her fade into nothing.
With trembling hands, I slung the bag over my shoulder, the weight of it both a comfort and a reminder of everything I'd lost. But as the minutes stretched on, something inside me shifted. I couldn't stay here. Farrah wouldn't want that. Oliver needed me.
Slowly, shakily, I pushed myself up, wiping at my tear-streaked face with trembling hands. My legs felt weak, my body heavy, but I forced myself to stand. I couldn't fall apart now. Not when so much was at stake.
Aspen thought she'd broken me. But she was wrong. I glanced at Farrah's body one last time, the grief still choking me, the pain still raw. "I'm sorry," I whispered, my voice hoarse and barely audible. "I'm so sorry, Farrah." But I would make this right. For her.