Requiem of a Broken Heart

Chapter 8

Chapter 8:

In the blink of an eye, Brian’s long strides brought him closer, his face etched with concern.

Tracy, sensing his concern, quickly reassured him. “Brian, please don’t worry. It was all my fault earlier. I wasn’t holding the cup properly. Rachel had no part in this.”

Rachel’s lips curled into a sarcastic smile, her eyes cold with disdain. For a brief moment, when Brian had approached, she had allowed herself to believe that he might actually care, that his concern was for her.

Her heart had softened, only to be shattered by the realization that she was wrong.

He wasn’t here for her, only rushing to protect Tracy.

Rachel’s expression hardened, her voice devoid of emotion as she finally spoke. “This has nothing to do with me,” she said, her tone calm but cutting. “If I had wanted to hurt her, the whole cup of coffee would have been thrown at her, not just a few splashes.”

Brian’s expression darkened, an unreadable intensity settling in his eyes. Before he could stop himself, his hand reached out, fingers curling firmly around Rachel’s wrist. “Rachel…” he murmured, his voice husky, laced with an unfamiliar hesitation.

The sound of his voice, once a balm to Rachel’s soul, now sent a jagged ache through her chest. She steeled herself, masking the storm beneath her calm exterior. “Release me,” she said quietly, though the faint tremor in her words betrayed her.

Brian, however, didn’t release her. Instead, his grip only tightened.

Rachel inhaled deeply, forcing herself to meet his gaze. “Alright then,” she said quietly, her voice carrying the weight of something unspoken. “Tell me, do you even know what I’m afraid of?”

“You…” Brian faltered, taken aback by her question. He was momentarily lost for words, realizing how little he understood her.

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“Forget it,” she said quietly, her hand slipping from his as she pushed him gently away. “I must have been asking for too much.”

Rachel turned away, her footsteps steady, yet each step carried the weight of an unbearable truth. She didn’t glance back, unwilling to reveal the turmoil within. Though her exterior remained composed, the pain had already carved deep wounds in her heart.

Brian had always remembered everything about Tracy; her fears, her anxieties, the little details that made her who she was. He knew she was afraid of darkness and confined spaces. But he…

she, too, was terrified of the dark, that the sensation of sudden drops and

lives had been shaped by

But everything changed the day he was diagnosed with autism.

privilege, not a given, and survival meant enduring, adapting, and expecting nothing from anyone. Everything worsened when Moira Haynes

their days locked in attics, cellars, and windowless rooms where darkness stretched

Shadows blurred into one another, erasing all sense of space and time. Yet Rachel couldn’t risk turning on a light. Visibility meant discovery, and discovery meant punishment. If Moira ever found out about them, the consequences would be severe. A beating would be the least of their worries. Surviving didn’t guarantee living; it

that seeped into her bones, a fear so deep it consumed her. But Brian—he never knew this part

Rachel kept walking, forcing herself forward as she always had, one

Ronald. His expression was one of surprise. “Ms. Marsh, why are you leaving?”

had sent him to buy the ointment for Tracy. Yet, the sting of that realization still hit her with a sharp twist. It wasn’t for her, not for the woman who had

Rachel’s stride, her

as she answered, “You should go. Brian

the office, he quickly realized that the ointment was for

his tone casual but purposeful. “Ronald, apply this for

withdrew her hand, her tone playful yet insistent. “Brian, I only want you to do it for

inside him shifted. With a quiet sigh, he handed the ointment to Tracy

clearly displeased, her eyes narrowing with frustration. “If it’s too much trouble, I can have Ronald take you to

over. “No, I can

hoping for a moment of attention, perhaps a sign of connection. But as she watched Brian immersed in his work, his concentration unshaken, a familiar sense of frustration began to rise

with a deep sigh, she decided to leave. There would be

the modest office, their eyes quickly

long for them to identify the young woman responsible for copying Rachel’s design. She was shy, introverted, and looked as though she had just stepped out of school. Her appearance struck a chord with Rachel,

Rachel said, her voice calm and commanding. The woman across from them looked up in

gaze unwavering as she locked eyes with the woman. “I think you recognize this,” she

as she examined the draft. “How did

created this design, I spent a week working on it. The submission you made to Titan Innovations is nearly identical, with only slight alterations. What you’ve done is not only plagiarism, it’s also an infringement

confusion and

seems lost. Do you think she’s

composed, her eyes never leaving the woman. “Let’s wait and see. We’ll

“Alright,” Samira replied.