Hodg

. The rage was a cold, unfamiliar thing, unlike the hot, con

ay, tires squealing. He emerged, his face a thu

d, striding towards us, his voice laced with

rry, Camden. I wouldn't dream of laying a hand on your preci

lay games with me, Eliza. You know how sensitive Kai is. He's just a young man

seen countless times. "He' s young, Eliza. So much pot

and steady. "I wouldn't. And I won

p closer, reaching out as if to touch my arm, a familiar gesture of appeasement.

icult? You want to push me away? Is that it? Are you trying to force my hand? Because

hem? How many times had I caved, fearing the end, fearing the loneliness? Each time, I wou

ot an

nging with a strange, liber

rance, now held a bewildered shock. He had expected tears, pleas, a d

whispered, as if he had

stronger now, a rising tide of resolve. "

th me? With your pathetic little art projects? You're nothing without me, Eliza! Yo

elt like distant echoes, powerless. He was screaming i

me," he snarled, his voice laced with desperation. "T

ger was largely gone, replaced by a dull ache of exhaustion. "No, Camden," I said, my vo

he papers. I'll be out of the house by the end of the week." My eyes flickered to Kai, who was now watching us with a mix of fea

d away, leaving them standing there, bew

smoke a bitter comfort. I gazed at the wisps of smoke curling into the twilight sky, reflecting on the seven years I had gi

studio in Italy. The one I had almost forgotten about, pushed aside by the crushing

Eliza Hodges the prestigiou

myself. I accepted, the click of the email sendin