Page 30 of Chalk Outline

There’s a camera in her room that is turned off for her privacy, but… I just want to ensure she’s okay.

I breathe deeply, lowering my gaze to the keyboard. I shouldn’t... my fingers hover over it as I hesitate.

No one needs to know.

I press the button I was told not to. Technology isn’t my forte, yet Koy went over the basics with me when I first arrived here.

The black screen transitions to live footage of Winona lying on her bed, staring at the ceiling with a somber expression on her delicate face.

I sit in front of the screen for an hour, watching the scene unfold over and over again. She looks the same, even worse. It’s like her eyes say she’s given up on her existence.

She’s my guiding light whenever I’m lost and can’t find my way. I focus on Winona. Her soft features and the freckles I count every time I look at her are the sole reason I’m here.

I wish I knew how to make it better for her.

I wish I knew all the answers.

In a swift movement, she stands up, puts her headphones on, and starts dancing without a care in the world.

When I look at her now, our story rages in her eyes, flashing violently. It consumes everything she is and burns deep in her soul. And I did it. I created that void. I should’ve just left her alone. But… I couldn’t.

The sound of water swishing comes from the large pool at the back of the house. Romina is out on business chasing another lead, but I have some free time. I round the corner and see Winona swimming in the pool in an oversized T-shirt and shorts. She doesn’t give a damn. If she wants to get in the water, she won’t even bother changing clothes; she’ll just jump in and say she tripped.

“What are you doing?” I raise my voice enough for her to hear me. “You could’ve changed clothes.”

“I fell,” she shouts, floating on her back, and I chuckle.

Of course.

She never disappoints.

Barefoot, I lower myself to the edge of the pool, my feet drawing circles in the water. My eyes follow her every move, tracking the smile blooming across her face. The gentle breeze feathers my skin as the sunlight vanishes in an instant, replaced by overcast skies.

“There’s a bug in the pool. Here, let me help,” I splash some water on her, and she yelps before diving underwater.

Last night, we talked for hours after she had a panic attack in her sleep. I promised I wouldn’t leave her side, and I didn’t. When she stirred in her sleep, I brushed her hair, then slept in the chair next to her bed until morning.

It’s becoming increasingly harder to be around her, pretending I don’t feel anything when I feel everything. I just... I want to let go, for once.

She pulls herself up, droplets clinging to her skin. Her orange strands stick to the sides of her face. Her body moves closer to me, almost slipping between my legs. Eyes dancing between mine, taunting, challenging, and begging for more.

“Did anyone ever tell you that your eyes can light up the dark?” she asks, looking up at me. Her smoky voice is like velvet and flame. Her expression is so soft that, in that moment, the whole world shuts down. Her voice is my guidance. And time stands still. I don’t even know what it is. If it even exists.

When she looks at me like that, I believe she sees right through me. Right through the false façade I put up.

A long pause stretches between us.

I look into her warm eyes.

“You just did,” I reply.

The corners of her mouth hook into a grin.

“Why do you never talk to me about what you really feel inside?”

My jaw tightens. “Winona, don’t.”

“Is it so hard to talk?” Her voice is calm, not pushy or judgmental.