CHAPTER 70: I WASN’T GOING CRAZY... WAS I?

Josie

It was barely past seven when the knock came, followed by the telltale swing of the door and the loudest voice on this side of the packhouse.

"Oh no, don’t even think of pretending to be asleep," Marcy huffed, hands on her hips as she stepped in like she owned the place. "You’re wearing the same hoodie I saw you in three days ago. Get up. We’re going out."

I didn’t even lift my head from the pillow. "Not happening."

"Girls’ night, Josie."

"Not in the mood."

Marcy plopped down on the foot of the bed, ignoring the way I groaned and shifted away. "You never are. That’s the problem. You’ve practically turned into a ghost. When was the last time you had a real conversation that wasn’t with me, or one of your overbearing triplet mates, or Varen whispering sweet nothings like some patient puppy?"

"Did you just call Varen a puppy?" I mumbled into the sheets.

Marcy snorted. "A hot, six-foot-five puppy with a temper. But that’s not the point."

I sighed and finally sat up, pushing my tangled hair out of my face. "There are guards at every damn corner, Marcy. It’s not like I can walk around freely anymore."

"That’s because you got poisoned, Josie."

"I know why." My tone came out harsher than I meant, and guilt twisted in my chest. "I just... I don’t want to be stared at like I’m some broken thing."

She reached out and squeezed my ankle through the blanket. "You’re not broken. But locking yourself up like this isn’t helping. I miss the version of you that used to laugh at the worst jokes and roll her eyes at everyone."

"Maybe that version of me died in that room with Michelle."

"Stop." Her voice was soft but firm. "You’re still here. You’re still fighting. But you need people around you to remind you of that."

I opened my mouth to respond, but another knock interrupted us.

The door creaked open before either of us answered.

Thorne.

He stepped in, wearing his usual all-black attire like he’d just come from intimidating someone. His eyes scanned the room, pausing briefly on me, then flicking to Marcy.

"I heard what you were saying," he said, voice low. "If you want to go out for a bit, we’ll have two guards trail behind—at a distance."

I blinked, surprised. "Seriously?"

He nodded. "You deserve some normalcy."

For a second, something in my chest warmed.

Then he added, "I’ll walk with you until we’re sure the route’s clear."

And just like that, the warmth vanished.

"Oh no," I said, pulling the blanket back over my lap. "You don’t get to crash my girls’ night, Thorne."

His brow arched. "I wasn’t—"

"Yes, you were. You always find a way to insert yourself."

Marcy smirked. "She’s not wrong."

He gave her a deadpan look. "Neither of you are exactly subtle."

"Well, subtlety isn’t my thing," Marcy said breezily.

I narrowed my eyes. "Thorne, just... go. Please."

He stared at me for a moment longer, and I could tell he wanted to argue. But then he exhaled and stepped back toward the door.

"Fine," he said curtly. "Do what you want."

The door clicked shut behind him.

And I bristled.

"What the hell was that?" I muttered, sitting up straighter.

Marcy blinked. "What do you mean?"

"Do what you want? What kind of attitude was that? Like he’s suddenly fed up with me for not doing what he says?"

Marcy raised an eyebrow. "Josie..."

"I don’t like the way he talks sometimes. Like I’m a problem to manage. Like if I’m not bending, I’m ungrateful."

She didn’t answer at first.

Instead, she leaned back, propping herself on her elbows. "I think he’s just... tired. And maybe you’re tired, too. And maybe the way you two keep dancing around each other is exhausting for both of you."

"What’s that supposed to mean?"

"It means..." She sat up again, fixing me with a look that was all too knowing. "You’re falling for him."

I froze.

And then I laughed. "No, I’m not."

"You are."

"Marcy—"

"If you weren’t, you wouldn’t be this pissed about everything he does. You wouldn’t care this much."

"I care because he’s my mate."

"No." She leaned closer, eyes bright with certainty. "You care because you’re in love with him."

"I’m not."

"You are."

I stood abruptly. "You should leave."

She didn’t move. "Why? Because I’m right?"

"Because you’re being ridiculous."

Her smirk softened. "Fine. But you’re still changing into something cuter. Let’s go."

Before I could protest, she sprang up, yanked open my closet, and pulled out a pale pink crop top and a pair of jeans I forgot I owned. "You’re wearing this."

"Absolutely not."

"Oh, you are." She shoved them into my hands. "Let’s remind the world Josie isn’t just the girl who got poisoned."

I stared at her, and despite everything—despite the ache in my chest, the tension with Thorne, and the haunting shadows of Michelle’s face—I found myself cracking a smile.

---

We went to the community quarters on the eastern side of the compound—back where I used to live, before everything changed. Where the walls didn’t feel like surveillance towers and the air still smelled like baked bread and bonfire smoke.

Ivory and Jessica were already there, sitting on the patio with drinks in hand, gossiping like the world wasn’t falling apart.

"Josie!" Jessica grinned when she saw me. "Look who remembered we exist!"

Ivory elbowed her. "Be nice."

"I am being nice."

I forced a laugh and hugged them both, then sat down between them. Marcy slid into the last seat, grinning like a proud mother hen.

For a little while, things felt... almost normal. We sipped on spiked lemonade, roasted peanuts over a small open flame, and gossiped about who in the pack had been caught skinny-dipping in the hot spring.

But then Ivory ruined it.

"So..." she said slowly. "How’s your mind?"

I blinked. "What?"

"You know... after everything. With Michelle. And the poison. It must be hard."

Jessica added, "Not saying you’re going crazy or anything—just, you know, it’s a lot."

I stared at them. "Do I seem like I’m going crazy?"

They exchanged a look.

I stood up. "I’m going for a walk."

Marcy was already on her feet. "Josie—"

"I’m fine."

But I wasn’t.

Their pity sat on my skin like oil. Sticky. Suffocating.

I walked fast, my boots crunching over the gravel path. The air had cooled, dusk settling in with a lazy stretch of purples and golds. I crossed near the old bakery, where a shop window still glowed with soft yellow light.

And then—I saw it.

Across the street, in front of the old supply store.

Michelle.

With her arms wrapped around Kiel’s neck.

And Kiel—Kiel leaning down, lips brushing hers.

My heart stopped. My breath caught. My legs froze.

No.

No, no, no.

They weren’t...

Were they?

I took a step forward, fury flooding through me. I was ready to scream, ready to run at them—

But a hand gripped my wrist. "Josie, wait!"

Marcy.

She was there, panic in her eyes, yanking me back. "It’s not what you think—come on, let’s go!"

"Let go of me!" I twisted in her grip, but she held firm.

"Josie—please—I swear, I didn’t know you’d see—"

"What are you talking about?" My voice cracked. "They’re right there!"

But when I turned back toward the spot—

There was nothing.

Just a darkened storefront.

No Michelle.

No Kiel.

Not even the echo of voices.

My heart slammed against my ribs. I stumbled back, breathing hard.

"Where—?"

"Josie," Marcy whispered gently, "maybe... maybe it was just the light. Or stress. You’ve been through a lot—"

"I saw them."

"I know. But maybe—"

I pulled away from her, shaking.

Was I losing it?

Had everything finally caught up with me?

Was I... going crazy?