CHAPTER 5: A Face I Recognize
(Betty's POV)
The plate is in pieces on the floor.
Eggs. Toast. Ceramic shards. All of it scattered at my feet.
I do not move.
I cannot move.
"Marry me," he said.
I stare at him. His face is calm. Too calm. Like he just asked me to pass the salt.
"Are you insane?" I whisper.
"Probably."
"You are bleeding on my couch. The police are looking for you. And you want me to marry you?"
"Yes."
I bend down. I start picking up the broken pieces. My hands are shaking.
"Stop," he says.
"No."
"Betty."
"No. Do not say my name like that."
"Like what?"
"Like you know me."
He is quiet.
I drop the shards into the trash. I grab a cloth and wipe the floor. My hands are still shaking.
"You are thinking about it," he says.
I freeze.
"I am not."
"You are."
I stand up. I turn to face him.
"Why would I ever marry you?"
He looks at me. Those dark eyes. Unreadable.
"Because if you do not, they will kill you."
My blood runs cold.
"What?"
"My enemies," he says. "They know I am here. They know you helped me. They do not care if you are innocent. They will come for you."
I shake my head.
"That does not make sense."
"It does not have to. They are not reasonable people."
I grip the edge of the counter.
"So your solution is marriage?"
"It is a contract. A paper. It gives me a reason to protect you."
"I do not need your protection."
"You already do."
I open my mouth. Close it.
He is right. I hate that he is right.
"I need to think," I say.
"You have until tonight."
I stare at him.
"That is not enough time."
"It is all I have."
Silence falls between us. Heavy. Suffocating.
I look at his face.
Really look at it.
And something clicks.
A memory. Buried deep. From months ago.
The hospital. Late night. A man in the hallway. Dark jacket. Dark hair. Watching.
My breath catches.
"It is you," I whisper.
His brow furrows.
"What?"
"The hospital. Months ago. You were there."
He goes still.
"I remember you," I continue. "You were watching someone. A man. He was in a private room. Critical condition."
Adrain's face changes. The color drains. His jaw tightens.
"You were there," I say again. "Who was he?"
He does not answer.
"Adrain."
He looks at me. His eyes are cold now. Empty.
"That man," he says slowly, "is one of the people I killed."
My heart stops.
"But he was saved," Adrain continues. His voice is flat. Hollow. "Someone brought him back. Someone like you."
I step back.
My back hits the wall.
"You are a killer," I whisper.
He looks at me.
"Yes," he says. "I am."