Chapter 4: Masks Are Made to Break
671 Words
Elena didn’t sleep.
Not really.
She lay awake until the early hours, staring at the ceiling of her canopy bed, listening to the silence of a mansion that felt more like a mausoleum.
The scent of rebellion still clung to her—the rust of old pipes, the electricity of Kai’s nearness, the weight of truth spoken in a room full of strangers who didn’t trust her… and yet, hadn’t turned her away.
The world below the city was real. Brutal. But honest.
This world—the one behind gates and chandeliers—was performance. Polished glass with hairline fractures no one dared admit.
She pressed her hand to her chest.
The truth was a pulse. Fast and growing.
And she didn’t know how much longer she could pretend.
---
Rodrigo stood in the breakfast conservatory, reading reports. Elena found him just as sunlight spilled over the marble floor. A man like him didn’t bend in daylight—he wore power like armor.
“Your guards say you haven’t used your car in three days,” he said without looking up. “Any reason?”
Elena forced her voice even. “I’ve been walking.”
“Walking?” He glanced at her now, eyes narrowed. “That’s beneath your station.”
“Maybe I like seeing the city.”
“You’re not a tourist, Elena. You’re a Reyes. You don’t wander—you lead.”
She held his gaze, challenging the weight behind his words. “Leaders should know what they’re walking on. Don’t you think?”
For a moment, something flickered behind his calm—irritation? Suspicion?
Then, just as quickly, it vanished.
“Stay in the safe zones,” he said. “And keep your head down. Not all streets are paved with gratitude.”
---
She met Kai again that night.
No texts. No signals.
Just instinct.
She returned to the alley and found him where the shadows breathed. Leaning against a wall, cigarette smoldering between two fingers, jaw tight with thought.
“You came again,” he said without turning. “Dangerous habit.”
“So stop calling me.”
“I didn’t.”
“Maybe I just wanted to see if you’d show up.”
He looked at her then. And for a second, his expression cracked.
“You shouldn’t keep showing up for people who burn.”
Elena took a step closer. “Maybe I already have.”
A long silence stretched between them.
“You talked to the old woman,” she added.
“Kiera. She’s been fighting since before either of us were born.”
“She doesn’t trust me.”
“She shouldn’t. Trust is earned. Especially here.”
“And you? Do you trust me?”
Kai took a drag from his cigarette. “I want to. That’s the problem.”
---
Back inside La Madriguera, they moved through a different route—past an old boiler room converted into a comms lab. Screens buzzed with intercepted broadcasts. Voices hummed, coded and angry.
Elena paused at a board full of faces—grainy photos, some with red Xs through them.
“Who are they?” she asked.
Kai looked. “Dead. Or disappeared.”
“Because of my father?”
“Some. Some because of his machine. Doesn’t matter if he gave the order or just built the cage.”
A girl passed them—barely older than Elena, carrying water, eyes hollow.
“They used to tell stories about you,” she said softly, not stopping. “The daughter with glass bones and a golden leash.”
Elena froze.
Kai didn’t flinch. “She’s trying to understand. That counts for something.”
“No it doesn’t,” the girl said. “Not until she bleeds like the rest of us.”
---
Back in her bedroom, Elena stared at her reflection again.
But something had shifted.
She didn’t see a delicate girl anymore.
She saw a mask.
One that was cracking—beautifully, terrifyingly—with each breath she took.
- Writer
