When Derek left, I showered, change the bandages on my shoulder and arm and made myself some chamomile tea, the pain in my shoulder was still there reminding me of what had happened, as I needed reminder.
I was sitting on my armchair by the window, trying to read a book, it was a good book, but I couldn't sink into it, my mind was somewhere else, it was inside my night stand's first drawer, on my mother's bracelet, I left the book aside and went to my bed, I sat there looking at the drawer, the bracelet was there since the first day I moved to that apartment, I put it there, away from my sight, not away from my memory and I never opened the drawer since.
I took the bracelet in my hands, it had two rows of bright red and black beads, made from the seeds of the plant those men had used to poison their arrows, I brushed my thump over the glossy seeds, the first time I saw my mother taking that off was the day she gave it to me as a gift, for my eighteen birthday, two days before the night I lost her, in one night I lost everything, my family, my home, my place in the world and the only thing left to remind who I was, was that bracelet, my mother claimed it was supposed to protect the wearer, I hope it doesn't, because if it does, this means it helped me survive that night, this means that if my mother had kept it she would be alive now.
It belonged to my family for over ten generation she told me, when she slipped the bracelet in my hand. I missed my mother, I missed my father and brother too, I believed that I would get used to it in time but the hollow they had left seemed to grow bigger by the day. Seven years had passed since I lost them and still their absence was unbearable.
Could there be a connection between that bracelet and the men that tried to kill Cora on Sunday night? My stomach churned, a part of me wanted to run and hide, but there was another part that believed this was too farfetched, it is just a bracelet, just a stupid good luck charm important only to me, if the bracelet had something to do with that incident, if I had something to do with the incident those men were going to break into my apartment, but they didn't, they attacked Cora, they broke into Derek's apartment, this was just a coincidence, I was just being paranoid.
No one knew who I was, the people who killed my family believe I died too that night, as far as they concerned, as far as anyone concerned I am Jane Miller, Eleonora Morgan is dead along with the rest of the Morgan pack.
I swallowed, but the clump in my throat refused to disappear. The Morgan pack, old and powerful, perished in on night. Fifteen pack members some of them family some of them friends, all of them dead.
Nausea crept up, squeezing my throat. I leaned forward, I couldn't let anxiety overwhelm me. I concentrated on breathing, slow, shallow breaths. In through the nose and out through the mouth, trying to calm down, letting myself work through it. In and out. In and out. Slowly, I felt the anxiety receding.
.
I was probably blowing this out of proportion, there was no reason to believe something is wrong, there were no evidence something is wrong. Telling myself all those things over and over didn't make me feel better, I had to be sure I had to see the arrows. In the morning I would call Derek and ask him if he kept them, maybe I could find out something about the attackers from the arrows.
My name was on the deadpool, whoever saw that probably knew I'm still alive. If they had found me, then I had to leave Beacon Hills forever. I put the bracelet back on its place and I closed the drawer
If I'm right and those people already know I'm here, Cora almost died because of me, I can't just leave, I can't go and save myself again, and let the entire population of Beacon Hills deal with it.
When the sun came out, and I was sitting on my armchair, trying to make a plan off the things that had to be done. I crossed the room to my bed, and although I was worried and anxious, I fall asleep right away.
I woke up with the sound of my brother's voice in my ears. "Nora, run" I sat up, so certain I'd heard his voice. I looked around, trying to find Philip in the room, my mind in a state between sleep and awake. It didn't take me long to understand I was dreaming. Bright sunlight was coming from the window, illuminating the room, reassuring me that I was secure in my apartment. I was in a cold sweat, and my heart was beating like a drum.
The bedside clock read 9:15, I got of the bed and went to make myself a cup of coffee. After I called the bookstore to tell them I was ready to go back to work I sat at the table in my kitchen. I was staring down the cup of coffee in my hands, trying unsuccessfully not to think about that nightmare.
I was dreaming the night of the attack almost every time I went to sleep, most of the time my dreams were consisting of vague images of blood and smoke, sometimes I saw members of my pack lying on the floor, and sometimes my dreams were different from the reality, in those dreams I was killed, or worse, I was watching my parents die, I didn't saw them die, I just felt their death through the pack bond, but in my dreams, they were being killed in front of my eyes.
But I haven't dreamed of Philip in years, that night we were the last members of our family standing, and we were outnumbered, I was out of bullets an Philip was badly injured, he was yelling at me to run, so I did, and I will never forgive myself for that, I went and save myself, letting my brother behind.
The first year, when I was still on the run, his voice was hounding me, the guilt was hounding me as well, and I deserved that, I should have stayed back, with him, but instead I run like the scared little girl I was. His voice was echoing in my ears, and the memory of his face, illuminated by the moonlight, his eyes were glowing golden that night, but in my dreams his eyes were always blue, this beautiful dark shade of blue he shared with my mother.
I didn't deserve to live more than he did, it was unfair. I survived that night only because I was a coward, only because I run. I run, and I kept running, until I arrived at Beckon Hills where I became someone else. The shame and the regret of what I've done never went away, I just accepted it. He was my brother and abandon him, I deserved every bad feeling that came with that.
