Page 74 of Bound By Crimson

Chapter Seventy-Four

Even a Monster Can Bleed

The baby was crying again.

Lyric stared at the ceiling, her arms folded across her chest, doing nothing but listening.

Not reaching. Not calling.

Just listening.

He didn’t sound like a newborn anymore.

There was no way to track time.

But her body knew.

And so did his voice.

The door opened.

Editha stepped in, calm and composed. No knock. No smile.

Just presence.

“Still sulking?” she asked.

Lyric didn’t answer.

Editha moved across the room with purpose, like she’d rehearsed this conversation before entering.

“I was just thinking,” she said, smoothing her blouse, “how far you’ve fallen.”

She stopped beside the bed.

“Little boutique queen in New York—you thought you were untouchable.”

“And now? You can’t even stand up.”

Lyric blinked slowly .

“Pathetic,” Editha added, tilting her head. “All it took was one man. That’s how weak you are. One man’s hands on your skin—and you collapsed.”

Silence.

Editha leaned in, voice sharp.

“You’re a disgrace. And you know it. A sinner.”

Still, Lyric said nothing.

Inside, her body was screaming.

It took everything she had just to sit upright.

Every breath hurt. Every muscle trembled.

But she forced herself to stay tall—to meet Editha’s eyes without flinching.

She would not give her the satisfaction.

Editha straightened. “Edwin is better off. You would just ruin him. Just like your mother ruined you. And tried to ruin Malachai.”

Something flickered in Lyric’s face.

But she didn’t move.

Not yet.

Editha stared at her.

Waiting.

Needing her to cry. Beg. Snap.

Instead, Lyric looked at her.

Her voice was quiet. Even. Tired—but steady.

“I feel sorry for you.”

Editha blinked. “Excuse me?”

Lyric’s eyes didn’t move.

“You’re just a sad, angry woman. Jealous. And nobody—not even Kai—can possibly love you. I know for a fact Eden didn’t. Not even your own husband.”

Editha’s face twitched—just once.

“You cling to your twisted beliefs so tightly, you’ve strangled yourself with them. Day after day, alone in this house, convincing yourself you’re righteous.

You think your prayers make you clean. But I’ve seen your hands—and they’re drenched. You don’t serve God. You serve control.”

Her tone sharpened .

“If the world knew what you’ve done—what Kai has done—this house wouldn’t just fall. It would burn!”

She stared at Editha—cold, steady.

“If God really saw what you’ve done—he wouldn’t save you. He’d send you straight to hell.”

Her voice lowered. Calm. Final.

“So, Editha… you’re the pathetic one. Not me.”

Silence.

The tension in the room shifted. Not dramatically—just enough to catch it, like Mrs. Thornwick’s mask slipped for half a second.

Her face flushed.

She stepped back. Not far—just one step.

Lyric saw it.

She felt it.

That was enough.

Editha gathered her composure, smoothed the front of her blouse, and turned for the door.

“Enjoy your soup,” she said, almost pleasantly.

The door shut behind her.

Lyric closed her eyes.

She wasn’t stronger. Not yet.

But now she’d seen something she couldn’t unsee.

Even a monster can bleed.