Chapter 142

Hannah

I quickly made my way downstairs to let Viona in. I clutched my robe around myself, glad to see that the house had long since gone quiet and that the festival had come to an end—and that Noah had apparently gone to sleep.

As soon as I opened the back door, Viona rushed into my arms, tears streaming down her face.

“Hannah, I’m so sorry to bother you this late,” she sobbed.

I hugged her tightly, shivering in the cold night air. “It’s okay, Vi. I was still awake. Come on, let’s go inside and talk.”

Viona nodded and let me lead her inside. I strode into the kitchen and flicked on the light, gesturing for her to sit at the spot by the kitchen island while I began boiling water in the kettle.

“Thank you, Hannah,” she sniffled as I prepared two cups of tea.

I simply shrugged. My eyes wandered over to the two duffle bags sitting on the floor by her feet. Something had clearly happened tonight, although I wasn’t going to pry until she was ready to talk about it.

A few minutes later, once we were settled in the living room with two cups of steaming chamomile tea between us, Viona took a deep breath and began to explain herself without me even having to ask.

“I went home after the festival and tried to talk to my parents about Andrew,” she said, her voice trembling. “I told them that I didn’t want to marry him, that I wasn’t ready for marriage at all.”

“Good for you.” I touched her arm and gave it a squeeze as I sipped my tea. “You should stand up for yourself, especially when it comes to marriage.”

Viona let out a bitter laugh at that. “Yeah, well, my parents don’t see it that way. They gave me an ultimatum: either marry Andrew or get out.”

“They really did that?” I murmured, my eyes widening. “To their own daughter?”

“Yep. Obviously, I chose the latter. So I packed my bags and left. No amount of money is worth what they’re trying to put me through.”

I let out a soft sigh. “That must have been really difficult, Viona. But I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks, Hannah,” she muttered, reaching for her teacup. “Although, I don’t know what I’m going to do now. I’ve never had to support myself before…”

There was a long silence after that as Viona shakily sipped her tea. I frowned slightly as I watched her; Viona’s parents were loaded, and she had always lived in the lap of luxury. I knew it sounded like a first world problem, but if they were really going to stick with their decision to cut her off and make her live on her own, that would be a tough adjustment.

I thought for a moment, then an idea struck me. “What if you worked for me? I could use another assistant for the eating disorder campaign. It would only be part-time and temporary, but I could pay you and it would look good on a resume.”

Viona’s eyes lit up, and she nearly dropped her tea. “Really? You’d do that for me, Hannah?”

“Of course. That’s what friends are for, isn’t it?”

“Thank you so much. I’ll do whatever I can to help you on your campaign, and in the meantime, I’ll look into some more permanent jobs.” She hesitated then, pursing her lips. “But... I’m not sure if I want to stay in Nightcrest forever. After everything that’s happened…”

“Do you want to come to my pack with me when I leave?” I asked.

My friend’s eyes widened into saucers. “You mean…”

“I might be a bit lonely back home. It would be nice to have my best friend with me.”

Viona’s face broke into a genuine smile for the first time that night. She threw her arms around me, hugging me tightly. “Hannah, thank you so much. I don’t know what I’d do without you,” she sobbed into my shoulder.

Nodding, I rubbed her back in large circles. “You’re welcome. Now, let’s get you settled in the spare room. You need some rest.”

I needed the rest, too.

…

The next morning, I woke up early and headed to the kitchen. I decided to make a fancy breakfast for Viona and myself—Belgian waffles with fresh berries, homemade whipped cream, and a side of crispy bacon. Something to take our minds off of… well, everything.

As I was mixing the batter, Viona wandered in, looking much better after a good night’s sleep.

“Morning,” she yawned as she raked her fingers through her hair. “That smells amazing.”

I grinned. “Want to help? You can start on the bacon while I finish the waffles.”

Viona nodded excitedly. We worked side by side, chatting and laughing and listening to music as we cooked. It felt good to have a friend here, to not be alone in this big house for once.

Once the food was prepared, we set the small bistro table in the window and poured two cups of steaming coffee. We sat down, and I watched contentedly over my mug as Viona began to dig into the waffles.

“If I come back to your pack with you, we should do this every day,” she said around a mouthful of waffle and berries.

I scrunched my nose up. “Maybe once a week,” I laughed. “Every day might be a bit—”

Suddenly, before I could finish, I heard the sound of familiar footsteps on the stairs. Instantly, I felt my blood run cold. Viona paused just as she was about to pop a piece of bacon into her mouth, her eyes meeting mine.

My stomach clenched as Noah walked into the kitchen a moment later, his dark hair already perfectly coiffed and his face freshly shaved. He was dressed in his usual work attire—a well-tailored, all black suit and loafers—and I could smell the aftershave on him from where I sat.

It made me a bit nauseous.

He stopped short as soon as he saw Viona. “Oh. Good morning. I didn’t realize we had company.” His green eyes flicked over to me and narrowed slightly.

I didn’t respond, instead snapping my head back around and focusing intently on arranging the berries on my waffle.

Viona looked between us, clearly uncomfortable. “Um, good morning, Noah,” she said hesitantly.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Noah’s brow furrow as he made his way over to the fridge. He seemed to peer at the pans on the stove, his shoulders slumping a bit when he saw that there was no food for him, although he didn’t say anything about it.

As Noah poured his coffee, the tense silence continued. Viona slowly chewed her bacon, eyeing me cautiously.

“Big breakfast today, huh?” Noah asked. “Are we celebrating something?”

I continued to ignore him, pouring syrup over my breakfast as if I hadn’t heard a single word. Viona continued to stare, and I could feel her slowly reach out beneath the table to give my ankle a swift kick. I merely shot her a withering glance before returning my attention to my waffle.

Noah’s jaw clenched. “Fine,” he snapped, slamming his coffee cup down on the counter. “If that’s how you want to be, then so be it.”

He stormed out of the kitchen without another word, slamming the front door as he left. Viona jumped, although I hardly even reacted. I simply popped a piece of my waffle into my mouth, savoring the sweet syrup and ripe berries.

Viona blinked at me over her coffee cup, her eyes wide. “Damn…”