Page 43 of Twisted Violet

It’s happening slowly and quietly, like she’s trying to make herself disappear without any of us noticing.

ButInotice, and I can’t fucking stand to see it.

I tell myself to ignore it, that it isn’t my problem or my place to care.

She’s been through hell, and I’m not entitled to her attention or her warmth. But Idocare, and I feel everything. The shift, the silence, the absence.

She used to love working in the kitchen. She’d be in there cooking every night and every morning, like clockwork. Always trying new recipes. Sometimes with ingredients I’ve never even heard of, and always begging us to taste-test her creations.

She even got Niko, the man who treats enjoyment like it’s a personal threat, to come to the table.

The food was always good, but it wasn’t about that.

It was the way she’d watch us nervously as we took our first bite and the way her eyes would light up when she’d see our reactions.

That was the part that got me.

The excitement, the spark, like, for just a second, she stopped worrying about everything else going on and could just be happy.

No fear of an imminent threat. No drowning in all the shit in her head. Just pure, unadulterated joy.

And now?

The kitchen’s been quiet for days. No sizzling pans. No k-pop music blasting. No Violet. And it’s not just me she’s hiding from. She barely talks to Dallas and Niko. And poor Ollie has been camped outside her bedroom nearly every night.

She’s not just shutting me out. She’s shutting all of us out.

She skips meals. Spends most of the day in her room with the door closed. She only comes out to eat, and even then, she never lingers in our shared spaces. She doesn’t tease us. Doesn’t ask questions. She just… disappears.

And I hate that it irks me.

I tell myself it’s for logistical reasons. That it’s easier to monitor her when she’s visible and easier to keep her safe when she’s predictable. But deep down, I know that’s bullshit.

Imissher.

Not the version of her we rescued, the one who flinched when we came near her. I miss the girl who started fighting her way back.

The one who asked Niko if he poisoned her cereal with that ridiculous deadpan expression.

The one who laughed under her breath when Dallas tripped over Ollie and tried to play it cool.

The one who kissed my cheek like it meant nothing and ruined me for the rest of the week.

I missthatViolet, and I don’t know how the hell we lost her.

It’s been three days.

Three days of icy silence and half-glances.

Three days of her shrinking away every time we step into a room.

Three days of trying not to care.

Of failing.

And today?

Today I snap.