Page 23 of Crown of the Mist (The Ether Chronicles #1)
The kitchen is too quiet. Not the kind of peaceful quiet that settles over a late-night meal or a good conversation. This is heavy, choking. The kind of silence that presses on your chest and makes your pulse tick louder in your ears.
I lean against the counter, staring at the shadowy yard through the window.
The faint reflection of the kitchen catches my eye—Gray leaning against the fridge, arms crossed like he’s trying to hold himself together.
Theo is perched on the edge of a chair, his head bowed, fingers laced tightly as if in prayer.
Rhett sits at the table, his jaw set so tight I’m half-waiting for his teeth to crack.
No one says a damn thing. No one has to.
The sound of footsteps on the stairs cuts through the quiet. Jace steps into the room, his usual lightness gone. His hair's a mess, shirt wrinkled, and for the first time I can remember, he doesn't meet any of our eyes. Just stares at some point on the floor between us.
"She's asleep," he says finally, his voice carrying none of its usual warmth. "Took a while, but...finally."
Rhett’s shoulders ease, just barely, and Theo nods like the news is a lifeline we’ve all been holding out for.
“She okay?” I ask, though I already know the answer.
Jace shrugs, not meeting our eyes. “As okay as she can be. She crashed hard. Looked like she’d been running on fumes for weeks. Didn’t say much.”
I glance over at Rhett, whose fingers drum against the table. He doesn’t look up, doesn’t say anything, but the tension in his frame says it all.
“We need to talk,” Jace says after a beat, looking at each of us in turn. “And not here.”
Gray straightens. “Why not?”
“Because if she overhears this…” Jace trails off, running a hand through his hair. “It’s gonna shake her. Bad.”
“Attic,” Theo suggests, already standing. “It’s the quietest place in the house.”
Rhett’s head snaps toward him. “The attic?”
“She found it today,” Theo says, his voice measured but with an edge of something. “I didn’t mention it because I didn’t really have time. But I found her sleeping up there earlier.”
Rhett stiffens. “And you didn’t tell me?”
Theo doesn’t flinch under the weight of Rhett’s glare. “Today’s been a little crazy”
I push off the counter, interrupting before this turns into something. “He’s right. The attic’s the best place for this. She won’t hear us up there.”
Gray nods reluctantly, pushing off the fridge. “Let’s go.”
We climb the stairs in near silence, the weight of unspoken things trailing behind us. The attic door creaks open, and I’m hit by a strange sense of familiarity. The space is clean, mostly finished, but there’s a faint scent hanging in the air that’s unmistakable. Bree.
The light filtering through the window catches on mismatched furniture—pieces we’ve been bringing up here bit by bit, waiting for the day she’d let us finish this for her.
The walls are painted soft gray, the kind of color she always picked when we helped her redecorate as kids.
The big window seat is there too, the one she found earlier.
Gray shuts the door behind us, leaning against it like he’s trying to hold back the weight of the world. “All right,” he says, his tone sharp. “Out with it.”
Theo pulls something small and black from his pocket and places it on the desk. Jace follows suit, setting another identical object beside it.
Cameras.
My blood goes cold. “What the hell are those?”
“Cameras,” Theo says flatly. “We found them in her apartment. Hidden in the mirrors, above the door, maybe more we didn’t catch.”
The words don’t register at first. Or maybe I just don’t want them to. “You’re saying he was watching her?”
“Not just him,” Jace mutters, leaning against the desk. His easy demeanor is gone, replaced by something darker. “Her dad too. Phil got a call from him while I was there. Sounded like they’ve been working together.”
The room drops a few degrees. Or maybe that’s just me. My pulse pounds in my ears, anger and protectiveness surging so fast I feel like I might snap. I grip the back of the chair to steady myself, trying to keep the fire under control.
“Phil,” Rhett growls, his voice low and dangerous. “Her father.”
Jace nods, his expression grim. “Phil was planted. Her dad’s been pulling strings for years, keeping her isolated, keeping her broken.”
Rhett slams his fist against the wall, the sound sharp and final. “And we didn’t see it.”
“Fuck man, stop. Bree doesn’t need to see that.” Gray says, already inspecting the new dent in the wall.
“No one saw what was going on.” Theo says, his tone steady but his jaw tight. “But now we know. And now we act.”
“Act?” I echo, my voice rough. “We should’ve acted years ago. We should’ve—”
“We didn’t know,” Gray cuts in, his voice cutting through my spiraling thoughts. “And beating ourselves up now doesn’t help her.”
“Doesn’t it?” I snap, my voice sharper than I meant it to be. “Because I can’t stop thinking about all the times we were right there and didn’t—”
“We know.” Gray’s voice is quieter now, but it carries more weight. “We all know.”
The mist curls around my feet, cold and steady, like it’s trying to anchor me. Or maybe it’s feeding off the fury swirling in the room. Either way, I force myself to breathe. To think. Because this isn’t about my anger or my guilt. This is about Bree.
Jace picks up one of the cameras, turning it over in his hand. “We’ve got evidence now. And we’ve got a plan.”
“What plan?” Rhett asks, his green eyes blazing.
Jace glances at Theo, who nods. “We deal with Phil. Quietly, for now. Make sure Bree doesn’t have to see him again. And we figure out what to do about her dad.”
“Her dad.” Rhett spits the words like a curse. “He’s still out there. Still—”
“And we’ll deal with him too,” Gray interrupts, his voice hard. “But one step at a time. Right now, Bree doesn’t know about the cameras or the call. If she finds out…”
“She won’t,” I say firmly, the promise burning in my chest. “Not yet. Not until she’s ready.”
The silence that follows feels heavy but unified. We don’t have all the answers, but we’ll get them for her.