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CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Noel

The rest of the day was a wash. Phoenix didn’t want to be around anyone, and Aziza said that was normal after going through what he had.

Was Hank the killer? Was it going to be over this easily?

I supposed that was possible, but something didn’t sit right with me.

This guy was meticulous. He’d know his voice would be a trigger, right?

He wasn’t blind to the fact that Phoenix was with the police, that the sound of his voice was easily a thread that could unravel everything for him.

His silence was what worried me the most. According to all the research, the news reports, everything, timing was crucial. Phoenix was on his schedule, and I wondered how his absence was going to affect the killer’s plans.

The following day, the house was pretty quiet.

Hazel went with most of the brothers to Saintly Sweets to see Lizzy.

Nick and Matt went to the library on some off idea to skim through archives.

Honestly, I didn’t know what their thinking was, but Matt was saying something about the movie It and how the archives held information.

…The man needed to get out more. I let them go with a wave of my hand.

Angel was spending a lot of time with Aziza and Two. I wasn’t sure what was going on, but I overheard them talking about Two being released to a long, lost sister. I couldn’t focus on any of that right now, though.

As I walked through the halls, I heard music playing. Not Linkin Park or anything—no, this was classical. I recognized the song but wouldn’t be able to name it if I tried.

It was coming from the library. I peeked in and Phoenix was sitting on one of the couches, watching something on a tablet.

Phoenix’s hand was on his chin, his eyes gliding across the screen. The song was haunting; my heart hurt just listening to it. I stepped in and he peered over the tablet at me. Our eyes met briefly before he went back to watching, and I took it as invitation to join him.

I positioned myself behind him and saw that he was watching a ballet. I squinted for a moment and realized it wasn’t just any ballet—it was him, dancing.

I didn’t want to interrupt, so I simply enjoyed the show. Phoenix barely moved, his other hand clenched tightly, which betrayed the relaxed demeanor I’d thought he’d had when I arrived.

Once the piece ended, he hit pause.

“ Giselle .” He looked up at me. “The ballet.”

I nodded, came around, and sat beside him. “I got the role of Albrecht. Are you familiar with the ballet?”

“The music was familiar, but no, I don’t think I ever saw it.”

He placed the tablet down and regarded me. “It’s haunting, depressing, and full of sorrow.”

I chuckled. “Aren’t many ballets?”

He shrugged. “I feel tragedy belongs to Shakespeare and the ballet.”

“I’m guessing everyone dies in the end?”

The corner of his mouth curled, and I considered it a small victory. “Almost…Albrecht actually ends up alone, sorrowful, broken. Death would have been a gift for him. At least then, he might have been able to be with the love of his life.”

“Jesus.” I reached over and grabbed the tablet. “We gotta find a happy ballet.”

He laughed, and I froze. When I glanced at him, he was watching me, the smile fading slowly.

“You should do that more.”

He bit his lip, and his finger started tapping against his leg. “Do what?”

“Laugh.”

He didn’t speak for a beat, and I waited him out. “I was watching because Aziza said I needed to remember what I loved, that if I were any of the things he’d told me I was, I’d have never been chosen to dance for these shows.”

“That Aziza is smart.”

He snorted. “It’s harder than I thought.”

“How so?”

He sighed and motioned to the tablet. “I used to watch my performances afterward, accept the minor critiques—which, honestly, by showtime I rarely had any. I was confident, believed in my art. I’d done it since I was a toddler, for Christ’s sake.

But as I sat here watching this, all I could hear was his voice, how not perfect it is, how pitied I am… how stupid any of this is.”

I tossed the tablet aside and took his hand in mine. It was odd; I wasn’t sure why I did it, but I waited until he looked at me.

“It’s easier to believe the bad parts of ourselves than the good. Once we say, yeah, I’m great at that, society adjusts the cogs to make us feel conceited. We yearn to be the best inside and out, and well, it takes a little pull for the whole sweater to unravel but a long-ass time to knit it.”

He chuckled. “That’s deep.”

“It’s true. I’m great at computers, hacking, and digging.

I’ve been encouraged my whole life to embrace what I’m good at.

I don’t know what would happen if someone took me from all of this and spent twenty-four-seven with me, telling me why I’m not.

That’s what happened to you, but it doesn’t make it true.

It makes him jealous, less than, and you will figure that out when you’re ready. ”

“I don’t want to feel like this.”

“That’s why you’ll beat it. It’s why you’ll overcome it, Phoenix.”

We sat in silence for a few minutes. The house was quiet, and while it could be awkward, it wasn’t. He never let go of my hand and when I looked over at one point, his cheek was pressed to the back of the couch and he was fast asleep, still clutching my hand.

“Missing person.” Nick entered my bedroom. I was relaxing after dinner and a shower, deciding to get to bed early since I was deep-diving into the dark web the next day, which always sucked the life out of me.

“When?” I sat up and grabbed the picture Nick was holding.

“An hour ago the report was filed, came across Rose’s desk.”

One glance at the photo and I knew exactly what Nick was thinking. “He looks almost exactly like Phoenix.”

Nick nodded. “Yeah. It’s creepy.”

The missing man was twenty-three, almost the same age as Phoenix, brown hair cut almost identical to how it was when he’d been found. Hazel eyes, five foot eight, a dancer at a local ballet company.

“Do you think it’s a message?” I couldn’t help but wonder if that’s what was happening here.

“Or a replacement. If he holds so little regard for his dolls, wouldn’t he just get a new one?”

That wasn’t jiving. “No, I’d think the opposite. When someone is obsessed with something, a replacement will never be enough. Have you contacted Aziza?”

“Left her a text, and she said she’d be over in the morning.”

“Okay.” I handed him the photo. “Don’t tell Phoenix yet. We need to talk to her; I feel like he’s making progress. I don’t want to be the reason he declines.”

Nick smiled his stupid smile. “You liiiiike him.”

“Fuck you, and get out.”

“You wanna kiiiiiiiiiiiss him.”

“If you don’t leave my room in two seconds I’ll tell Matt you hid his underwear this morning because you wanted easy access to him at the library, you perv.”

His eyes widened. “I hate you.”

I grinned as if I’d won the lottery. “Shoo now.”

He walked out, shooting me the middle finger.