Chapter 14

"Get your stuff. You're staying with me," Ruth said, her tone brooking no argument. She didn't even look back as she turned, Chloe perched on her hip like she'd been carrying her since birth. The determination in her voice hit me like a wave, leaving me standing there, paralyzed. 

Panic surged through me. She didn't know. She couldn't know. Chloe wasn't like other kids—there was no telling when she might shift or what Ruth would do if she saw it. My chest tightened at the thought of Chloe's secret being exposed, of Ruth's reaction to something she couldn't possibly understand. 

"Ruth, wait!" My voice was shaky, desperate. "You don't understand—I can't just—" 

She stopped and turned halfway, fixing me with a glare that could have cut through stone. "I understand perfectly. That child needs stability, and you need help. Get your things, Amelia." 

"But—" 

She lifted a hand, silencing me with the same air of authority she always carried. "Three minutes," she said coolly. "That's how long you have before I leave. And if you're not in that truck, I'll take Chloe without you." 

I felt a sinking feeling in my stomach. She was not deceiving. I noticed it in her jawline, the tension surrounding her eyes. Ruth was as stubborn as a mule and equally unyielding once she had decided.

Letting out a deep sigh, I turned and walked back inside the house, my heart racing in my chest. My hands shook while I picked up a bag, throwing in some essentials—a set of clothes, a few diapers, a bottle. My fingers rested on the silver knife hidden beneath the mattress, its shiny blade faintly shimmering in the low light. With a trembling breath, I placed it into the bag. I couldn't bear to abandon it.

As I walked outside, Ruth sat in the driver's seat, completely focused on Chloe, who was chattering and pulling at the fringe of Ruth's shawl.

"Have you got everything?" Ruth inquired without glancing at me, her tone sharp.

I got into the passenger seat, stifling the need to dispute. "Yeah," I replied gently, my voice faint beneath Chloe's joyful squeals.

The journey to Ruth's eatery, which also served as her residence, felt surreal. The engine's hum mixed with Chloe's chatter and Ruth's soothing replies. It felt like they were using a language of their own, one that I found incomprehensible. I observed quietly, an odd blend of fear and wonder twisting within me.

When we arrived at the back of the restaurant, the sky was filled with rich purples and blues. Ruth stopped the truck and got out, cradling Chloe as if she were the most valuable thing in existence.

"Let's go," she said, guiding us to the rear entrance.

The kitchen was alive with activity, the soft light from above highlighting the disorder of clanging pots.

The kitchen thrived with activity, the soft light from above highlighting the frenzy of clanging pots and pans, the steady rhythm of knife chops, and the quiet buzz of chatter. Noah stood by the stove, his forehead creased with focus while he mixed the contents of a pot. He looked up as we came in, his face lighting up with a big smile.

"Amelia!" he shouted, placing the spoon down. "You have arrived!"

The other employees quickly observed, and in no time, I was encircled by recognizable faces, their grins and hellos enveloping me like a tide.

"We've been thinking about you!"

"Are you here to stay?"

"Let us know you're not leaving!"

Before I had the chance to respond, Ruth interjected, her voice piercing through the noise. "She's remaining here, but she hasn't returned to work yet."

Their faces changed, worry taking over enthusiasm.

"What occurred?" one of the chefs inquired, her eyebrows knitted.

I paused, uncertain about how much to reveal. "I… I'm being followed," I finally confessed, the words weighing heavily on my tongue.

The kitchen went quiet for a brief moment, then burst into a wave of anger.

"Who is that?" "We'll handle them!"

"Nobody interferes with our Amelia!"

"They had better not appear around here!"

Their anger was nearly suffocating, yet beneath it lay a strong sense of protectiveness that filled my eyes with tears. I forced a slight, unsteady smile, aware that deep inside, they were no match for the type of peril Chloe and I encountered. Yet, their allegiance kindled a portion of me that had remained icy for far too long.

Ruth, always the realist, sent them back to their tasks with a couple of pointed remarks before guiding me up to the cozy apartment above the eatery. It was simple yet comfortable, featuring a sofa, a small kitchen area, and a little bedroom.

""This is our home for the time being," she remarked, placing Chloe on the couch.

As I surveyed my surroundings, the tightness of worry in my chest eased ever so slightly. After a long time, I sensed that perhaps we weren't completely alone.

"You resemble a zombie." "Get some rest," Ruth said, her tone firm yet gentle. Without awaiting a response, she turned and walked out of the room, the sound of her boots resonating on the stairs.

I observed her leave, a faint, bittersweet smile forming on my lips. Ruth had a knack for charging through life like a freight train, pulling everyone with her. A year back, I never would have thought I would find myself here, trusting her so fully.

At that time, I was adrift—walking into her bar carrying only sorrow and rage as my identity. I had requested their strongest beverage, intending to numb my pain and fade away. However, Ruth had seen clearly through me. She'd taken the glass from me before I could even have a sip and publicly pointed out my misery in front of everyone.

"Are you looking to self-destruct?" Conduct it in a different location. "If you're present, you earn that beverage," she remarked, her stare challenging me to disagree.

I did not dispute. In some way, I found myself cleaning tables that evening, and when I departed, Ruth had ingratiated herself into my life.

She didn't pamper me. She urged, nudged, and reprimanded, yet she also provided me with direction. Gradually, she assisted me in reconstructing the fragments of myself I believed I'd mislaid for all time.

At that moment, I wasn't merely existing—I was safeguarding, cherishing, and battling for a cause greater than me.

My fingers moved to the pendant at my neck, its aged surface feeling cool against my skin. It was the sole reminder of my father, the man who brought me up and taught me to stand strong even when life pushed me down.

I pressed my lips to the pendant, murmuring gently, "Take it easy, Dad." I no longer feel alone. I've discovered individuals who are compassionate—individuals who will stand up alongside me. And I promise, once I discover who stole you from me, I'll ensure they face consequences. "You have my promise."

The vow felt burdensome, akin to the heaviness of the pendant.

The creaking noise of the door opening interrupted my daydream. My heart raced, pressure building in my chest until I noticed Noah walk in. He gently shut the door, his hand lingering on the lock as he inspected it two times. His gaze swept across the room before settling on me.

"Are we by ourselves?" he inquired, his tone soft and wary.

I nodded, observing him as he made his way across the room in several long strides. His shoulders were rigid, his jaw tight—a clear indication that the day had taken a toll on him as well.

"What occurred?" he inquired, crossing his arms while leaning on the wall.

"Ruth occurred," I remarked, releasing a weary sigh. The fatigue of the day seeped into my voice. "She burst in, spotted Chloe, and concluded we're relocating with her." No debate, no disagreements. "Simply loaded us up and brought us here."

Noah brushed his hand across his face, grumbling quietly. "Blast it, Amelia. This was meant to be understated. Now we're adding her to the equation? "She will begin posing questions."

"Do you believe I'm unaware of that?" I lost my temper, the words exiting more harshly than I meant. "What was I meant to do?" Inform her no? She mentioned she would take Chloe without me if I didn't tag along. "You're aware that Ruth never deceives."

He exhaled deeply, his irritation clear, yet his voice became gentler. "I am aware." I understand. It's simply that… this adds to the complexity. Ruth is unaware of Chloe, and if she learns the truth, it's impossible to predict her reaction.

I gulped nervously, my eyes wandering to the couch where Chloe lay asleep, unaware of the burden of the secrets enveloping her. "We'll take care of it," I replied, although my voice trembled. "We consistently do."

Noah's look became gentler, and he moved closer, placing a hand on my shoulder. "I simply don't want anything to occur to you—or to Chloe." "We've put in too much effort to remain unnoticed."

His words struck a chord in my heart, yet I nodded. "I understand," I murmured. "I'll ensure her safety." Regardless of anything.

For a brief instant, we were quiet, the heaviness of our anxieties enveloping the space. Ruth had good intentions, yet the reality we were concealing could alter everything. At the moment, we had her safeguard—but for how much longer could we hide the flaws?