Broken Glass [h.s.]

eighteen

Harry

"Here" Aaron says, leading us through an opening, before putting his bag down. "We can stop here and eat something. We'll probably reach the exit of the tunnel by evening."

"Are you saying we made it?" Dove asks him, her clear blue eyes widening in surprise.

He nods. "We did, Winters. We only have to be careful now, who knows how much of our plan got out. They could be waiting for us, for all we know."

"I thought they never exited the city?" Dove asks curiously.

"They don't, but they seem pretty determined, they could make an exception. They surely won't go too far, though. They'll never reach the house." Aaron opens his backpack to take out the map.

I sit down on the floor next to Dove. "Where is it? How long will we have to walk once we get out?"

"About an hour away. Have you never been to the Styles countryside Mansion?" He replies, and I frown.

"Never even heard of it, to be honest. I also never exited the city" I say truthfully, taking the apple Dove is handing me.

He takes a bite of his own. "Understandable, Mr Styles wanted to keep it a secret. One safe place the family could've hidden in if things had gone badly. I thought he would've told you at least, though."

"He didn't." I look down at the apple in my hand, it's deep red, a spot of light in the dark colours of the tunnel. Even though I don't want to admit it, it's understandable that he didn't tell me. He hasn't told me anything since my sister passed away. To be honest, the communication in the Styles household has been shitty since my mother went missing, and her death just happened to be the last blow to an already lacking system. Since then, it all went downhill, and my father only cared about me knowing how to defend myself. I scoff. Pretty sure that worked out well, hasn't it?

"Is everything okay?"

I turn my head and see that Dove is looking at me, with wide, curious blue eyes. Looking at her, she doesn't seem the kind of person who would go around carrying a knife all the time. And threaten to murder me about a thousand times. I feel like chuckling at the simple remembrance. I used to love pissing her off so much.

"Yeah" I say looking away, not able to stand her ocean gaze.

"Here" she says, and all of sudden I feel something weighing down on my hand.

I look down at it with a frown. It's the small bag with the money. "Are you not coming with me?" I ask her.

"I am!" She replies, "But I can't leave my parents. So I suppose I'd have to go back in the city. And we also don't know if everything will go smoothly from now on. So you should keep it. If we were to be separated, I could still go back in the city, I wouldn't risk more than anyone else. You on the other hand, can't. So you need it way more than me." She puts her hand on mine and closes my fingers around the little bag, pushing it lightly towards my chest.

"Alright" I say, tightening the cord around the opening to close it and tying it around my belt.

"And Harry" she whispers to hide her words from Aaron in case he's listening, "No matter what happens, don't be an idiot and get into the city again. I'd like to see you alive."

I chuckle. "Don't worry, I have no intention of dying." My mind goes back to my father. I know he cares about me - he wouldn't have set up this whole trip if he didn't, but do I really want to stay with him? In my town, the wealth he gathered for our family on the shoulders of our people allows me to have everything I want. The Styles Mansion is flooded with gold, everything seems possible, living there. But the house that was once so full of life is dead now, the only people living there being my father, who spends his days hidden away in his study to play with people as if he was playing chess, the endless stream of servants, the even larger amount of guards surrounding the perimeter 24/7 to make sure nobody will bring harm to the ruling family, and me. Occasionally going out and spreading terror, just because it's fun. And now, the same fun we had in the city is retorted towards our family, two members of it down, two more to go. They won't stop until there won't be a living soul carrying the Styles name, I know it. I know it, because that's exactly what my father's father did to get him in the place he is now. If I stay in the city, our futures are tied. If I fall, he falls. And if he falls, I'll fall with him, and our family will be swept away like ashes in the wind. Do I really want to stay? For the first time, it doesn't feel as weird to say I don't want to. "And I also have no intention to remain" I add. What's the point in staying on a sinking boat? I wonder if it makes me a coward.