Ch 19: The Sum of Neglect
Dawn was a grey smear against the window when the house came alive. Engines roared up the cliff road and died in the courtyard. Doors slammed. Voices, rough with leftover violence, cut through the morning stillness.
The pack had returned from its hunt.
Elena did not stir. She sat in her chair, still in the white nightdress. Exactly where Anna had left her.
Footsteps approached—heavy and swift. Kazimir.
The key turned. The door swung open.
He filled the frame. His shirt was untucked, sleeves rolled up, forearms streaked with grime and something darker. A fresh cut split his knuckles. His hair was disheveled. He smelled of night air, gasoline, and blood.
His eyes swept the room. Found the displaced documents. The skewed chair. And her. He frowned.
"What happened?"
Elena did not move.
His jaw tightened. He stepped in and closed the door. "Look at me."
Slowly, her head turned. Her eyes lifted to his. They held no terror. No pleading. No hidden empathy. They were empty, reflecting nothing back.
Irritation flashed across his features. "Why are you dressed like that?"
Elena’s lips remained sealed.
Kazimir’s patience evaporated. He crossed the space in two strides. His hand shot out to grasp the collar of the nightdress—not to strike, but to shake her. But the delicate lace—fastened with small pearl buttons—gave way. Buttons pinged against the floor, skittering across the wood like tiny casualties.
He froze. The torn collar gaped open, revealing the edge of a bruise—violent purple blooming against pale flesh. His gaze locked onto it.
With sudden, deliberate slowness, he released the collar and went to the next button. Then the next. He parted the nightdress.
The full map was revealed.
Kazimir’s breath seized. A low sound rumbled in his chest. His eyes, when they lifted, were no longer grey. They were the color of a blizzard.
"Who?"
Elena said nothing.
"Who did this?" Kazimir leaned in. His face inches from hers. "Tell me. Now."
Her lips did not move.
Rage erupted. His fist slammed into the wall.
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"Do you not understand what they did? You will give me their names! Speak!" He was shouting now, the controlled mask completely gone. "Why? Why won't you speak?"
Elena did not reply. Her hands rose mechanically and began to re-button the torn nightdress. She pulled the cotton closed over the bruises. When she finished, her hands returned to her lap. Her eyes fixed on the wall again.
He stared at her hands.
The silence stretched.
Kazimir ran a hand through his hair. He pulled out his phone and typed with violent precision.
Less than a minute later, Leo entered. His quiet face took in the scene—the furious boss, the girl in the torn nightdress, the scattered buttons. His expression didn't change.
"Find the people who weren't with us," Kazimir said. His voice was calm now. Deadly calm. "Bring them to the west courtyard. Now."
Leo turned to leave.
"Wait. Post a guard by this door. No one is allowed to enter."
Leo nodded and left.
Kazimir turned back. He leaned down, braced his hands on the arms of her chair, and growled: "When I am done with them, you and I will have a talk."
He strode to the door. The lock turned behind him.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
The sounds of the purge drifted through the stone.
Elena sat in her chair, her body a tuning fork for the violence in the air. She didn't need to see it to know. The sounds drifted through stone—muffled, distorted, but unmistakable. A scuffle. A cry. The heavy thud.
This is what I wanted. The thought was a whisper. This is what Anna said to do.
But the thought brought no warmth, only nausea alongside the pain.
The screaming girl in the cellar stirred, wanting to pull Elena away.
But Elena held back. Not yet. Not until it was done. She had chosen to witness. Witnessing meant hearing. It meant knowing. It meant seeing things to the end.
Another cry, shorter this time, cut off abruptly. Then something being dragged across gravel.
When the last engine faded—when the house settled into a profound silence—Elena finally allowed herself to feel. The screaming girl surged forward. The cold wall she had maintained wavered. The sounds she had heard, the knowledge of what she had set in motion, the weight of the night—all of it pressed down at once.
This is what you wanted. This is what you chose.
The tremors ebbed and flowed. With no witness but the empty room and the silent guard beyond the door.
Eventually, the convulsions began to ease. Not because she was better. Because her mind slipped from her body again. The body was empty. There was nothing left to shake loose.
The door opened. Hours later. Or minutes. The Elena on the ceiling couldn't tell.
Kazimir stood in the frame. His shirt was worse now—torn at the collar, spattered with something dark. His face was a mask of exhausted satisfaction.
His eyes found her. He crossed the room and stopped before her. He reached into his pocket and pulled out something small. A pearl button. Matching the ones scattered on the floor.
"They won't touch you again," he said, placing it on the arm of her chair. "No one will."
He waited, looking into the body's empty eyes.
For what? Gratitude? Recognition?
The body turned to look at the button. Small. Pretty. Useless. Nothing could close what had been torn.
She stared.
Several minutes passed. Kazimir's expression flattened. The air around him turned icy. He turned and walked to the bathroom, closing the door with a bang.
Elena sat in the chair, the small button on the arm beside her.
She did not pick it up.
Last edited by Feiya Phia 5/4/26