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Ava isn't ready to kill again yet, but I'll help her get there. She's helping me, too.When she's around,the dark urges that rage in my head seem to soften.They're stillthere,but easier to control. She brings balance.

When things are balanced, certain things come to light. Especially the fact that I need to seek forgiveness from Henrik. He and Ava are the only people I care about. I have Ava, but I know I scared Henrik, even if I'd had no intention to hurt him.

I call him, but he doesn't answer. At first, I think hejustneeds time.

But then one day I wake and find the note.

***

It's pinned on the inside of my front door. My stomach drops when I see it.

Hyde kills Henrik

It's just like the notes I found in my house before. A scrap of paper with red ink. The ones I assumed were parasomnia, things I'd done while sleepwalking. Now, I'm not sure. It's grown so hard to trust my mind.

The thought occurs to me with a jolt of nausea: what if I'm having fugue states I don't even remember? What if I left this note then? What if there's an even deeper evil lurking with me?

Ava's eyes widen as she reads it over my shoulder. "What is that?"

"Stay here," I order. "I'm going to check on Henrik. I'm worried something's happened to him."

She crosses her arms across her chest. "No. There's no way I'm letting you go alone, Jackson."

My jaw clenches. Why couldn't have become obsessed with a less stubborn woman? "I don't know whatgave you the impressionyou're in charge here. There's no way I'm dragging you into a dangerous situation."

"Walking into dangerous situations is literally my job." She corrects herself. "Was my job. I can help you."

"You'll have to tie me up and lock me in the house if you want to go alone."

"Don't give me ideas," I mutter.Herface reddensbutI concede. There isn't enough time to argue this out. "Fine. Let's go,Detective."

I collect my gun and slip my knife into my jacket pocket. Unease builds inside my chest as I drive us over to Henrik's house. I exchange a glance with Ava before we head to the door.

Occam's razor: the simplest solution is probably the correct one. I don't want to believe the obvious answer that's lurking in the back of my mind.

For now,I push this out of my mind and knock at the door.

Only silence answers.

I exhale, frustrated, and keep knocking.

"Try the handle," Ava suggests.

I nod. The door clicks open. My chest tightens, but I try to ignore it. Henrik has never been good at safety precautions.

The lights are on inside. But the hallway is quiet.

"Henrik?" I call out.

No answer.

I beckon Ava to follow me, moving down the hall into the living room. My hand is wrapped around the handle of my knifeandAva has the gun raised ahead of her. But the second we step into the room,it's clearthere's no need for weapons.

We're far too fucking late for that.

Henrik.

He's sitting in one of his plush armchairs,buthe'sslumped forward.

I hear a gasp of shock from Ava's mouth, but I don't move. I can't.

Everything in my brain goes numb like it doesn't want to process what it's seeing. It feels like the floor falling out from under me. Like the sky is collapsing.

For the first time in weeks, I feelsomuch more like Jackson than Hyde. I feel human. Someone with weakness, someone who loves and feels pain. Someone who can be killed.

My friend, my mentor, my surrogate father—he's dead. My eyes drop to Henrik's chest. Through his tweed waistcoat, blood is seeping through from a wound in his chest.

Ava crosses to his body, feeling for a pulse. She meets my eyes andshakes her head.

"I'm so sorry, Jackson. We'll find whoever did this and make them pay."

My voice returns. "Henrik had no enemies. He was a good man, a truly good man. His life was one of academia and dinner parties, not murder."

She shakes her head, her voice shaking. "I don't understand. Then who would do this?"

I don't want to speak the answer that's burning in my head.

My eyes flit to the jacket pocket on his chest. There's a piece of paper sticking out of it.

I slowly cross the room to him, kneeling to his level.My handsare tremblingslightly as I gently dragmy handsover his eyelids to close them.I slip the paper from his pocket, unfolding it.

The red scrawl burns into my retinas.

The detective is next.

I crumple the paper in my hand. It wilts under my fist.

"What does that say?" Ava asks, breathless.

Henrik wouldn't be dead if he'd never listened to the kindness in his heart and welcomed me into his orbit.

It's never been clearer: My orbit is deadly. It's a burning, barren wasteland around me. Anything that gets close goes up in flames. It took a decade, but Henrik got burnt eventually.

And now the woman I swore to protect is next.

I wanted to open Ava up to her true potential, all the glittering bloody darkness of it. But I wanted her to have power and absolute safety, not this.

"Jackson, speak to me." Ava places her hand on my arm. I know it's meant to be comforting, but it feels like it's happening to someone else.

Memories of my last encounters with Henrik flash into my head. He angered me. He told me to go to a psychiatric ward. He was scared of me.

But now I see he wasjusttrying to help.

He gave me everything. Where my family only took and took from me, Henrik gave me a new life. And now he's dead because of me.

I meet Ava's worried stare. "We have to leave. Now."

I rise to my feet, heading back to the front door.

Ava follows after me, whispering a stream of frantic questions. "Where are we going? Are you going to call the cops? Do you know who did this?"

I have an answer to the last question.

It's the only explanation.

Who else would leave those notes? Who else has the power to kill like that? Who else has a broken mind that plays tricks and hides things from them?

Me.

I do.

That must be the explanation.There's a part of me locked inside that is so dark, soevil,that I can't even see it.

I killed my oldest friend and mentor. I threatened the woman I obsess over protecting.

It's true that I remembernone of it.But in the broken mindthat I've lived within since mychildhood, that doesn't mean it isn't real.

I wanted to believe it was different, but I neverreallyhad a chance. When Dr Blackwood broke me, he broke me for good.

I'm the monster in the story.

And the monsters need to be slain.