Chapter 17
Hazel
I’m ripped out of my dream as if an invisible hand dug into my chest and pulled me out of sleep by my spine.
I sit up, heart pounding in my chest, only to find Maeve’s side of the bed empty.
Something is wrong.
“Tell me where she is!” I yell in panic into the dark room. I’m screaming at nothing but shadows, but I know— I know —the hotel is always listening, always watching.
The answer comes to me not long after, and I spring out of bed, getting dressed in a hurry before running out into the hotel corridor.
I don’t bother waiting for the elevator and take the stairs. I’m out of breath when I reach the lobby but don’t stop, trying to reach my office as fast as I can, hoping I’m not too late.
“Maeve!” I call out when I find her sitting behind my office desk, my Colt pistol pressed against her temple.
“Stop,” she says all too quietly.
The determination in her voice has me freezing in place, only steps away from her and the desk. My harried breaths fill the space between us and I don’t dare move another inch.
“Maeve, I’m here. It’s over,” I beseech softly.
There’s a tremor in her raised hand, a single tear falling down her cheek but she doesn’t move. “Don’t you get it?” she whispers. “This cycle won’t ever stop until I see it through.”
“Maeve, no,” I plead, my voice cracking. “See what through? You’ll die if you pull the trigger.”
“How do you know?” she says, her raised arm shaking but her voice strong and commanding.
Her words wash over me, and I realize then what she means—what her true intent is. I fight the urge to rip the gun out of her hand and let out a small sigh of defeat instead.
She seems to notice the moment I accept her decision.
A small sob falls out of her lips, the gun rattling against her temple. “Fate?” she asks softly with a trembling voice, her eyes glassy with unshed tears and a kind of pure hope that should never exist inside a moment like this.
I nod, swallowing hard.
“Fate,” I finally repeat.
I close my eyes.
The gun goes off.