Jason did not ask her about the phone again.
That was the first warning.
When Jason stopped questioning, it meant he already knew the answers.
What Loraine Never Sees
Ethan was stopped before he reached the gate.
He never saw the guards.
He only saw Jason.
Standing in the open, calm as a man waiting for his driver.
"You've been persistent," Jason said mildly.
Ethan's jaw tightened. "Where is she?"
Jason smiled. "Safe."
"That's not what she looked like," Ethan snapped.
Jason stepped closer.
"You saw what I allowed you to see," he said quietly. "And now you will stop looking."
Ethan laughed bitterly. "You can't erase people forever."
Jason leaned in, his voice gentle, intimate—deadly.
"I don't need forever," he said. "Just long enough."
When Ethan was released hours later, shaken and silent, one thing was clear—
He would never come near that house again.
Not if he wanted to keep breathing easily at night.
Jason Tests Her
That evening, Jason brought Loraine a dress.
Red. Soft. Expensive.
"Put this on," he said. "We're having dinner."
Her hands trembled as she changed.
At the table, candles flickered. Music played low. It looked almost normal.
Too normal.
"You've been quiet," Jason said, pouring wine. "Tell me what you're thinking."
Her heart raced.
This was the test.
If she spoke—she lost.
If she lied—she lost.
If she stayed silent—she survived.
"I'm grateful," she said finally. "For everything you do."
Jason studied her for a long time.
Then he smiled.
"You're learning," he said softly.
He reached across the table and brushed his thumb against her wrist—pressing just hard enough to remind her he could break it if he wanted.
The Choice
Later that night, he asked the question he already knew the answer to.
"Did you ever try to contact someone from before?" he asked casually, lying beside her.
Her breath caught.
This was the moment.
She could tell the truth.
She could cry.
Beg.
Explain.
Instead, she stared at the ceiling and whispered, "No."
Jason's body went very still.
Seconds passed.
Then—
He laughed quietly.
"Good," he said. "Because if you had…"
He didn't finish the sentence.
He didn't need to.
He pulled her into his chest, holding her too tightly.
"You chose correctly," he murmured into her hair. "Silence keeps you safe."
Her tears soaked into his shirt.
He didn't let go.
The Shout
The next morning, she asked to go outside.
Just once.
Jason stopped walking.
"No."
"Why?" she whispered.
He turned on her suddenly, voice sharp and loud—cutting through the room.
"Because you don't listen!"
She flinched.
"I give you everything," he continued, breathing hard. "Everything—and you still look outward."
Tears spilled down her face.
He froze.
Immediately.
His anger cracked into panic.
"I—I didn't mean to raise my voice," he said quickly, cupping her face. "Don't cry. Please don't cry."
Her sobs only grew.
Jason looked like a man unraveling.
"I'm sorry," he whispered desperately. "I'm sorry, mine. You know I can't stand it when you cry."
He pressed his forehead to hers.
"You're all I have," he said hoarsely. "Don't make me feel like I'm losing you."
She nodded through tears.
What else could she do?
The House Learns Her Fear
That night, the locks sounded louder.
The walls felt closer.
Jason slept peacefully beside her.
Loraine did not.
She lay awake, staring into the dark, realizing something terrible—
Jason didn't need chains.
He had already taught her which thoughts were dangerous.
Questions That Hurt More Than Answers
What did Jason do to Ethan that night?
How many truths has silence already buried?
If love demands obedience, what does freedom look like?
And when fear becomes routine…
does the heart ever remember how to fight?