Fighting Our Way (Broken Tracks 2)

“I’m coming for you.” The voice has me panicking, my head whipping around as I squeeze the teddy head tighter. “I’m coming for you.”

My eyes widen as I look down at the head, realizing it’s coming from that. I drop it so fast, almost like it’s burned me—I’m not sure it hasn’t.

My body shivers but my palms sweat as it hits the top of the musical box I got in the first package, and I continue to stare down at the two things in shock.

Izzie’s laughter reverberates through the glass wall, reminding me there’s six people on the other side of the door, one of which could come in at any second.

Nate got close to the first box, I can’t let that happen again.

Closing the lid, I push it back under the bed. If I can’t see it then it means it’s not really there, right?

Pushing my shoulders back, I school my features into a determined look before pulling open the door and heading back outside.

“Sit by me, Amelia!” Izzie shouts as soon as she sees me, patting the seat next to her. I smile gently. If there’s one thing that can distract me and turn the darkness that’s swirling around me into something lighter, then it’s her and Clay. I sit down next to her before she whispers, “Why are your eyes like that?”

I swallow, looking down at the table. “Oh… I—I erm... Got something in my eye.”

“Daddy should check it, he always checks my hurts.”

“A?” Tris asks, his voice soft.

Lifting my head, I feel several sets of eyes lingering on me. I catch Nate’s, seeing the questions shining back at me before picking up my fork and looking away from him. “This looks delicious.”

Everyone starts to eat, seeming to know I’m upset but realizing I don’t want to talk about it. There’s no way I’d ever tell any of them what’s going on.

If they knew…

I can’t imagine what would happen if they found out—not only what’s happening now but what happened in my past.

Still feeling eyes on me, I look up. Tris stares at me, his gray eyes shadowed with worry. He silently tells me he’s there if I need to talk and I give him a slight nod of my head.

I appreciate it, but it’ll never happen.

The atmosphere becomes light after a while, the kids chatting away as Tris listens intently.

“Harmony,” Nate all of a sudden blurts out. Shit. Tris’s head shoots up to where Nate is now standing at the end of the table. Nate continues, “That’s who I was talking about. When you mentioned Willow Arts earlier, I should’ve told you she’d been to see me... she’s back.”

The air fills with tension as everyone goes silent. We all know she’s back, but apart from Tris mentioning her on Sunday morning, nothing else has been said.

“Willow Arts? That’s where me and Clay go, Daddy!” Izzie squeals excitedly.

“It is,” Tris replies, as he tries to keep himself under control but we can all see the crack in his facade. “How long ago?”

Nate looks away and whispers something before looking back at Tris. “A couple of months back.”

I hold my breath, my hand reaching out to touch Clay’s shoulder. He’s watching them both, knowing that whatever is transpiring isn’t good.

“You mean to tell me,” Tris thunders, standing up. “That you’ve known she’s been back for months and didn’t think I should know?”

“Well… I…”

“Jesus, Nate. She’s their art teacher.” Tris points to Clay and Izzie. “Had you told me when she first came back then I probably would have worked it out and not sent them there.” He lowers his voice but none of us can hear what he says.

“I’m sorry,” Nate sighs.

“Tristan,” Charlotte calls, but he ignores her, pushing his chair back fully.

“I need to make a few calls.”