From Best Friend To Fiancé (Savannah and Roman) novel Chapter 152

**TITLE: Dreams Folding Into Broken Time**

**Chapter 152**

I stepped out of the office, my legs feeling foreign beneath me, as if they were mere extensions of someone else’s body. Each footfall down the corridor felt like trudging through a thick layer of cement, each step weighed down by an invisible anchor. My throat was aflame, a burning reminder of the screams I wished I could unleash but couldn’t. By the time I reached the end of the hallway, my vision blurred, and I leaned against the wall, gasping for air as panic threatened to consume me.

Suddenly, the tears erupted, hot and relentless, choking me with their intensity. My body folded in on itself, shaking uncontrollably as sobs ripped through me like jagged shards of glass. I buried my face in my trembling hands, trying to stifle the sound, but it was futile. The truth was, no one would come to my rescue. No one ever did.

The house loomed around me, vast and empty, its silence practiced and suffocating. It felt like a cavernous tomb, echoing the absence of warmth and understanding.

Then, Chloe found me. Her small footsteps pattered quickly across the polished wooden floor, and she appeared, her eyes wide with concern, her face as pale as a ghost.

“Savannah?” she whispered, kneeling beside me, her voice barely above a breath.

I swiped at my tears with frantic hands, desperate to regain some semblance of composure, but it was a losing battle. My face was a mess—wet, blotchy, and my chest rose and fell in a frantic rhythm.

“What happened?” she asked, her voice tinged with a mixture of curiosity and worry.

I couldn’t bring myself to share the truth. Not here. Not when the monster lurked just a room away, laughing with my father as if nothing had transpired. All I could do was shake my head, my voice barely a whisper, “Don’t—don’t say anything. Please.”

Her lips pressed into a worried line, and she reached for my hand. I gripped hers so tightly that I feared I might crush it, but she didn’t pull away, even as her face twisted in discomfort.

“Eww. Now you’ve ruined my manicure,” she complained playfully, but her tone was soft, a lifeline thrown in the midst of my storm. “I just got these done.”

“I’m sorry, Chlo,” I managed to say through my tears, my voice thick with emotion.

We sat in that fragile silence until the sound of heavy footsteps approached, each thud echoing like a countdown. I stiffened instinctively. My father’s laughter rolled down the hall, followed by Kingston’s lower chuckle, the sound slicing through me like a dagger.

“Come on,” Chloe urged gently, tugging at my hand. “We should go upstairs. You look like a mess. And your period’s running down your leg.”

Before we could make our escape, Kingston’s shadow loomed in the hallway. He emerged with that infuriatingly effortless smile, tipping his head at us as if we were nothing more than his neighbor’s children.

“Ladies,” he said smoothly, as if he hadn’t just shattered my world. “Don’t stay up too late.” His gaze lingered on me for a fraction too long, enough to make bile rise in my throat. Then he strolled out the door, humming to himself, as if he hadn’t just taken everything from me.

The front door clicked shut, and the house fell into an oppressive silence once more. That was when I heard my mother’s voice from the office doorway, sharp and commanding. “Savannah. Come back inside.”

I froze, my grip on Chloe’s hand tightening instinctively. I craved comfort, a beacon of light in this dark abyss. I needed someone to lean on.

“Go,” my mother insisted again, her tone firmer this time. Her eyes flicked between us with an intensity that made my heart race. “Alone.”

She attempted to withdraw her hand from mine, but I held on tighter, silently begging her not to let go.

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