Gwin awoke to the glow of moonlight streaming through half-drawn blinds, casting silver patterns across the room.
Her throat burned with residual poison, her muscles stiff and aching. Arthur sat slumped in a chair beside her bed, engrossed in the same book Joseph had given him.
"Evening Gwin, Glamourbabe is gone," he said before she could speak, "The Elders kicked her out after the interview disaster. Said it was unprofessional, and it worsened her credibility when she leaked our video. And she was Violet's ride, so she left immediately."
Gwin turned to face him, "Arthur," she whispered, "Can you join me? I just want someone to hold for a while."
He stilled, the request carrying none of her usual playful teasing—just a raw and quiet need.
"As you wish." Boots thudded against the floor. Jacket placed over the chair. The mattress dipped as he slid under the blanket, leaving careful space between them.
Gwin closed the gap, pressing her head against his chest. His arms hesitated before wrapping around her, "Do you… want to talk about it?" he asked.
Her head stayed buried against his chest, her voice muffled as she began, "It was seven years ago."
"My dad divorced my mom because he couldn't handle her silence. She was born with an illness that made it hard for her to speak to anyone. She would use her phone or signs to communicate, which worked in the early stages of their marriage. But he had a breaking point. When I was eleven, my dad suddenly left, and years later, he had a new lover."
Arthur remained quiet.
"The mansion became a silent cage. Mom depended on my father for everything to survive. But she was far more concerned about how I turned out. I never had a friend, so I would often talk to myself, taking a liking to knives and catching myself fighting my dolls. She wanted to send help for me, but we were short on money."
Arthur continued to listen in silence, his hand gently caressing her hair.
"Then Tombstone came. A gangster who owned the area where I stayed. My mom made a deal with that man. One that haunts me to this day. He put a death curse on us. If we told anyone about him, the other would die." Gwin's nails dug into Arthur's back.
She suppressed her urge to cry, "He hurt Mom. Every night. I watched. For years. When I was fourteen, I hatched a plan. If I didn't say his name, the curse wouldn't trigger. So, I lured a rookie hero home under false pretenses. But not only did Tombstone kill him, Mom collapsed the second the hero died. The curse didn't care about technicalities. It still activated." Arthur's grip tightened.
"He told me I'd killed her. That I'd wanted to." Her breath hitched, "I believed him. I had nothing left in life worth fighting for. When he said proving my loyalty would 'fix' me… I poured acid on Violet without blinking."
Silence settled.
Then—
"That wasn't you. That was a kid trying to survive," Arthur said in gently torn.
Gwin removed her head and looked directly into his eyes, "Say it again."
He did. Again. And again.
Until her shaking stopped, the tremors fading into the stillness of his embrace.