Page 181 of Healed

We slowed as we approached the playhouse, all of us instinctively lowering ourselves as though the trees themselves might hide us from view. Dante raised his hand, bringing us to an immediate halt.

As we all gathered round him, he brought his finger to his lips, indicating he wanted us all to be quiet. He pointed at me and Rachel and gestured to the floor, his face firm.

The message was clear. He wanted us to stay here and keep watch. We both nodded, not wanting to argue at a time like this. He then gestured to Vienna, pointed to the left and made a circular motion with his hand, before pointing at himself and circling the opposite direction.

Vienna gave a curt nod and, staying crouched, made his way around the back of the playhouse with Dante following in the opposite direction. I shuffled closer to Rachel, wrapping my arm around her shoulders and squeezing her tightly. She was practically vibrating beside me, her entire body shaking with nerves.

“They’re okay,” I whispered to her. “They will be inside the playhouse.”

“We’re stood in front of the fucking playhouse,” she snapped back. “Why can’t I hear them? They should be crying—we both know they will be utterly terrified. So why can’t I hear them, Gabriella? Why?”

Two fat tears spilled down her cheeks, and I somehow shuffled even closer, wrapping both my arms around her.

“Hey, come on now,” I said, stroking up and down her arm. “Those kids are warriors. And do you know why?”

She shook her head.

“Because you raised them, Rachel. You’ve taught them how to survive. You’ve taught them not to panic in scary situations. And do you know why they aren’t crying?”

She shook her head again, and I grabbed her face, forcing her to look at me as I cupped her cheeks.

“They have no reason to be scared because they know you are coming for them. You are the mum who would banish the wind if it so much as made them shiver with the cold. You are the mum who would—and did—run through a burning building to save them. You are a fucking superhero, Rachel, and they know it. Why would they be scared when they have you in their corner? I know I wouldn’t be.”

She locked eyes with me then, another tear spilling over.

“I mean it, Rachel. Every last fucking word.”

She expelled a heavy breath and nodded. “You’re right,” she whispered.

She shook her head then, shaking off her tears and sadness, and straightened her spine.

“You good?” I asked, not entirely convinced that I’d got through to her.

“I will be,” she muttered back, her tone blank. Deadly.

Well, okay then.

I stayed close to her, but took a moment to look at my surroundings.

The playhouse looked much smaller than I remembered. It had always seemed larger than life when we were kids. It seemed like a castle back then. In reality, it was the size of a standard room in any house. An attempt had been made at a second storey, but that was long since rotten and ruined, left in a pile of wood to the side.

The tarp that had once kept the rain off was ripped almost clean in half, hanging limply between the branches, and the old logs had begun collapsing in on themselves. Someone had clearly been using the place recently, though. There were fresh tyre tracks leading up to it, discarded food wrappers on the floor, and empty beer bottles scattered around the entrance.

Nico had made himself at home.

“It’s clear,” Dante said, coming back to us.

“All clear on the other side,” Vienna confirmed.

“Any sign of Nico?” I whispered. Vienna shook his head.

“So they’re inside?” Rachel asked.

Dante nodded.

Rachel wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and then pushed forward, entering the playhouse.

“Rachel!” Dante hissed, but she was already through the door. I jumped to my feet, following her immediately, wanting to have her back.