Chương 174: Act 3, Chapter 28: Widows’ web

Day in the story: 12th January (Monday), afternoon It's between silence and whisper that all things laid. All the words left unsaid burrow into the corners of the mind. They grow there in that damp climate of regret, feeding quietly until they swell—fat grubs of poisonous, maddening noise—no longer content to stay still between thoughts. So when you think everything is good and orderly in your life, or in your relationships, think twice.

Maybe there is already a worm chewing through the psyche of your friends, hollowing them out until the vessel has too many holes to keep anything inside. I didn't know it yet, but I would be facing exactly that tonight—even though it started well. It started beautifully well. Anyway. Sophie came home first, wearing a smile that didn't match what her brows were doing. I hobbled toward her, my empty pant leg flailing with every step, announcing my approach like a surrender flag.

Her eyes flicked to it briefly before rising to meet mine.

"What happened, Soph?" She exhaled a breath that seemed too long for one body to contain.

"It shows?"

"Of course. You won't fool me with a smile that bad."

"I kind of hoped I wouldn't. I want to talk about it," she said, hanging her coat and slipping off her shoes. We always took off our shoes in the apartment. I usually took off my socks too—or sock, in my current condition. Barefoot was the way to go.

"I just didn't want to burden you with it while you have much bigger issues."

"Soph, the biggest problem of your life is the biggest problem of your life. The fact that someone else out there has it worse doesn't make your issues smaller in your own circumstances. I'm pretty sure you told me that more than once. Listen to yourself."

"Can't argue with my own wisdom, can I?" she said, this time smiling for real. I crutched my way to the couch, lowered myself down, and turned toward her. She moved into the kitchen and poured herself a glass of water.

"Were you… at home the entire time?" she asked, surprised.

"What? No, of course not. I tested my power over music most of the day," I replied, glancing toward her green wall where my spiders nested.

"And I gave Liora a mouth to speak like a human, which might have been a mistake."

"I'd love to hear him speak. That's awesome."

"Don't get distracted. Spill." Another long exhale. She really didn't want to say it.

"It's my father. And my brother too, for that matter. Father heard I was in Paris and noticed the changes to The Hoppers. He wants to discuss my future with me."

"And Josh?"

"Joshua called to inform me that I'm not going to sway Aunt into giving me the entire estate just because I visited her a few times. Can you believe that?"

"Honestly? Yes. You've painted him as an entitled brat in every story so far."

"He's not all bad. But yes. He loves money too fuckin' much," she said, the curse slipping out like she'd tried to catch it mid-air and failed.

"Why do you think they want to meet?"

"It's not they. Father does. I think he doesn't like that I'm making my own moves. He always hoped to marry me off to one of his business partner's sons."

"Wait. Seriously? That still happens?"

"Yes. And for the record, I am not going along with it. Especially now that you've given me some financial safety net. But it still sucks to be reminded that, in his eyes, I'm a commodity."

"I'm sorry," I said.

"And excuse me for probing, but wouldn't having your own business make you a better catch? Or do they just want a pretty face to parade around?"

"The latter. Spot on."

"Yeah," I muttered.

"I kind of figured that out as I was saying it."

"Would you like to hang out? Just drinks and some talking?"

"Yes. That would be sweet. Let me change into something more comfortable and we can have it," she said, heading toward her room. I teleported to the paper spider I'd left in the kitchen. As I landed, I summoned the rest of them to me. It was long past due that I became a full-time Disney princess with my assortment of helpful animals, and now that I could turn songs into meaningful events, it felt even more justified. I opened the fridge just as the main door opened.

"Hello?" Zoe's voice echoed off the walls.

"In the kitchen," I called.

"Preparing an emergency girls' night with appetizers and drinks."

"Emergency?" The expression I caught through the spider tattoo on my neck showed her distress immediately. Her pupils dilated. Her arms dropped to her sides before she clenched her fists.

"How can I help?"

"You can join us if you want. I'd gladly have you," I said, pulling a tray of cheese from the fridge and setting it on the counter. One of my spiders already held a knife while another steadied the cheese. They began slicing it into neat pieces. I moved to the olives, leaving the jar for another helper to unscrew.

"I was going to propose helping in the kitchen, but…" Zoe said, watching my small army at work. A few spiders opened the cabinet above the counter and carefully carried wine glasses down along the wall, gripping them with their front legs.

"It seems you upgraded your skills by a lot."

"Aren't they great?"

"I didn't think they could handle such intricate tasks. I observed them briefly this morning, but they were just crawling around."

"I gave them a mission this time," I said, as a small procession of folded arachnids carried glasses and platters toward the table in the main room. Two of the last ones hauled the wine bottle between them while I placed grapes into a small bowl.

"You can take this there," I told her, handing over the fruit.

"It's still difficult to walk and carry things at the same time, and I don't want to teleport everywhere. I need to move so my body doesn't get used to being idle." Love what you're reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.

"I'll get properly undressed," she said, placing the bowl where it belonged, carefully avoiding stepping on any of my minions.

"Give me five minutes, okay?"

"Sure. Any news from Peter?" I asked. Of course her eyes flicked to my missing leg. Just a second. Just enough for pity to register.

"No." Her smile faded.

"I don't know if I want to talk about it, okay?"

"Sure," I said, hobbling closer to the couch while she shrugged off her jacket and slipped out of her shoes.

"I'll do my best to be the emergency Sophie needs. Be right back," she added, disappearing into Peter's room. I dropped onto the couch and sent a silent command to my helpers. One spider climbed onto the wine bottle while three others braced it in place. The climber reached the cork, drove his front legs into it, and with one sharp sweep pulled it free. The pop echoed cleanly through the room. Half a minute later, they tilted the bottle in perfect coordination and filled my glass without spilling a single drop.

"Cheers," I muttered, lifting it and catching my reflection in the angled surface of the wine. My face fractured in the dark red triangle of liquid. Then I took a long sip. I was glad, deeply glad, that tonight wasn't going to be about me for once.

Both girls wanted to just chill and watch a movie. Some brain-rotting attempt at portraying "real emotions." As if the people who wrote those scripts had ever interacted with an actual human being. Still, I was happy to see through it and throw in commentary from time to time if it meant Sophie would feel a little better. Halfway through, right when the so-far-so-happy relationship hit its mandatory and completely outlandish struggle, Sophie couldn't bear the silence anymore.

"I loved them both," she said. She adjusted the pillow she'd been holding behind her knees—pulled up to her chest for most of the movie—then set it aside. She slid down to the floor, sat cross-legged, and turned toward us. Zoe caught the cue immediately and paused the movie.

"Past tense?" she asked, placing her feet on the ground in front of the couch she'd been sprawled across.

"No…" Sophie exhaled.

"I still do. It's just… I'm disappointed in them. I know my brother loves me in his own way, although he always felt inferior in how father saw him compared to me. That makes him treat me like an adversary instead of family."

"Sins of the fathers…" Zoe muttered.

"Yes. My pops was never big on expressing feelings, but he did tell me he loves me on occasion. And yet he always told me I have a duty to the name. I felt it for most of my life." She stared at her wriggling toes.

"But I don't anymore. Not for some time."

"You feel betrayed by him?" I asked, reaching for a cube of cheese that one of my spiders held up to me with careful dedication. I bowed slightly to it in gratitude before popping it into my mouth.

"I thought he'd abandon those foolish marriage ideas once he saw that I wasn't studying just for show. That I wanted to work for my success with my brain and not my… you know."

"I do," Zoe said quietly, her hand resting against her stomach as she let herself get lost in her thoughts.

"So he surprised me when he told me we'd have to talk about my future, so I don't do anything foolish I would regret later."

"He meant himself," I said.

"Yes. Something he would regret."

"Go tell him you're a big girl now," I replied.

"I'm planning to. But it's not easy to stand up to your father." She was right. It felt simple to suggest it, but I wasn't any different when it came to Penrose. Standing against someone who shaped you—even when you knew better, knew that he was a scumbag—was never simple. Parental figures held a certain authority over the soul. It didn't dissolve just because you turned into an adult.

"I'm sorry," I said.

"I know it's not easy." She gave me a small, grateful smile.

"This must seem trivial compared to the problems you are facing."

"Please, let's not speak about me tonight. I have my issues and you're already helping me with them. I'd prefer not to be the center of attention anymore." I glanced at Zoe, who closed her eyes briefly in understanding. I had learned my lessons. Some of them just kept me in class longer than others.

"My grandmother used to say that every meaningful change begins with one small decision, Soph," Zoe said, looking at both of us.

"You can't change how your father sees you, no matter how hard you try. But you can change how you present yourself to him."

"That's a beautiful way of putting it, Zee."

"Yes. The burden of perception is on him, but the burden of changing yourself is on you. Both are heavy to carry."

"Especially when you get used to one state of things," I muttered.

"I should do it, right? Stand up for myself?"

"I think so," Zoe continued.

"I think I would."

"Okay, okay, okay… I might break the bond between us, but I'll do it."

"You won't break it," Zoe said gently.

"You'll keep it alive by showing him you're not a tool but a person. You'll give him a chance to notice. Then the ball will be in his court to do the same."

"Thank you," Sophie whispered, a single tear sliding down her cheek. She stood, walked around the table, and hugged Zoe. Zoe rose to meet her, patting her back slowly. Over Sophie's shoulder, she looked at me and smiled—but her eyes lagged behind the expression for a fraction of a second.

"Zoe, what's going on? Is it about Peter's absence?" I asked, unable to hold it in any longer. They separated at that. Sophie turned toward her, hands still gripping her elbows.

"It is," Zoe said quietly, sitting back down. Sophie joined her immediately.

"But not only that."

"You're angry at him for leaving?" Sophie asked.

"No… fuck, yes. I am angry. But more than angry, I'm disappointed. Not about him leaving—about him lying."

"What?" Sophie and I said at the same time.

"He lied?" I pressed.

"I asked him, not long before he left, if he was sure this was what he wanted. He confirmed. So I told him I love him and that I'd wait patiently for the end of his training and hope he'd call me often." She swallowed.

"You know how he replied?" We both shook our heads.

"He stayed silent for a few seconds. Then he said he'd contact me as soon as possible. And that he gave you a ring to paint, so you could reach him when he's at Quantico."

"Fuck," I muttered.

"He really did it."

"How? I don't get it," Sophie said.

"He kept silent first," I explained.

"He does that when he doesn't want to blatantly lie. He avoids saying anything at all if he can't say the truth."

"Yes," Zoe said bitterly.

"For me, that's still a fucking lie."

"So he knew he wouldn't be staying at the FBI facility for this," Sophie said slowly.

"He left the ring there and went somewhere else."

"That's my assumption. And not only did he leave me to deal with my emotions, he left Lex in a time of need." Her voice trembled.

"I can't forgive him for that. It's eating me from the inside out, girls. I can't… I just can't. I thought he was better than other guys." I felt the reflex to defend him rise in my throat. But Zoe was right. And the weight of that realization settled heavily. It made me think of my own half-truths, my own carefully curated silences and lies—and how easily they could wound the people closest to me.

"You said it's not the only thing," Sophie said carefully.

"What?"

"She's right," I added.

"I asked about Peter, and you said it's not only him."

"So what else is bothering you?" Sophie pressed. Zoe inhaled slowly. She looked at Sophie first, then at me, and finally at the floor between her feet.

"It shouldn't have happened," she said.

"It just shouldn't have. But it did."

"What? You cheated on him?" Sophie asked.

"No." Zoe's head snapped up.

"Of course not. I despise cheating. My father was a dirty cheater and an alcoholic. I would never do that to someone." Her words made my eyes drift to the wineglass I had poured for her earlier. It was still untouched.

"You're not drinking tonight," I said.

"Were you never drinking and I just didn't notice?"

"No, I drink occasionally," she replied quickly.

"I'm just careful not to get drunk. For obvious reasons."

"So if it's not cheating, what happened?" Sophie asked. The obvious reasons she mentioned earlier were not the same that settled into place in my mind. I spoke before Zoe could.

"Are you pregnant?" She looked at me. Her breathing stopped for several long seconds. She bit her lip and pressed her fingers against her stomach as if she could hide behind the gesture.

"You are," Sophie whispered. Zoe broke. Tears spilled down her cheeks as she covered her face with both hands.

"I don't know how," she sobbed.

"And he left me."

"Does he know?" I asked.

"I found out two days ago. It must have happened…" She paused to steady her breathing.

"When we were together on his island. Or around that time. I'm on pills, girls."

"They don't always work," Sophie said gently.

"And he was wearing protection too." Anger flared in me.

"This is probably his water powers," I muttered.

"Made his sperm too strong." They both stared at me.

"I hate him for leaving me with this," Zoe said.

"I'm not ready to have a child."

"You can—""No," she cut me off immediately.

"I won't do that. It's sacred to me. There's a soul inside me. I'm already imagining what she or he will look like." Her palm moved slowly over her stomach.

"I'll have to tell my mother. She always warned me to be careful. And I was careful. It's so unfair."

"The boys really left both of you to face your troubles," I said quietly.

"At least Nickolas will be back soon," Zoe told Sophie.

"I have no idea where Peter is. Or how long he'll be gone. Or if he's even still alive." The last words faded into the room.

"I'll keep my eyes on his soul core," I said.

"He was still at stage one, but if he's doing something connected to his powers, he'll advance quickly. I'll notice." Zoe looked up.

"You can do that?"

"I can do it right now," I answered.