Chapter 4 Thornbridge Routine

As soon as it was 8 PM , Ivy sprang up from her bed to head downstairs for dinner.The stairs creaked beneath her feet as Ivy descended into the dim, spice-scented kitchen. A single light above the stove cast a warm glow over the room, flickering faintly as if even the house were tired.

Elias sat at the long dining table, his dinner untouched. Celeste leaned against the counter, scrolling through her phone, manicured nails tapping softly with each flick.

"Took you long enough," Elias muttered without looking up.

"I had homework to finish," Ivy lied gently. She slid into the seat across from him.

Celeste didn't lift her eyes. "Homework or brooding under moonlight?"

"Celeste," Elias said in a tone that was both warning and weary.

Ivy glanced between them, her appetite fading. The tension was subtle but present-Elias's hands clenching and unclenching beside his bowl, Celeste's foot tapping in tight, irritated rhythm.

"I wasn't brooding," Ivy said softly. "Just... tired."

"Then take your tonic," Elias said, sliding the small glass bottle across the table without looking at her. His voice was like flint-cool, sparking tension when struck.

She opened the bottle and downed it in one go, familiar with the bitter aftertaste by now. It didn't matter what it was anymore. She just drank.

Dinner passed mostly in silence. Celeste barely ate, Elias barely moved, and Ivy, as usual, felt like she was floating in someone else's house.

Halfway through the meal, Celeste stood abruptly, flipping her black curls behind her shoulder. "I'm not doing this tonight."

"No one asked you to," Elias replied, still not lifting his gaze.

Celeste scoffed and left the room with an intentional sway in her steps, the soft thud of her heels echoing up the stairs. Her perfume-expensive, powdery-lingered in the air.

Ivy didn't ask what that was about.

She didn't want to know.

She rose from the table without finishing her food. "Good night," she murmured to the room, but neither Elias nor the walls answered.

That night, her dreams were darker than usual.

She ran through trees that bled silver light. Something chased her-something large and not entirely visible. Her skin burned, her heart raced, and somewhere behind her, a woman's voice whispered her name like it was both a warning and a promise.

"Ivy... Ivy... wake up."

She jolted upright in bed, drenched in sweat.

Tuesday Morning – 6:43 AM

Elias's voice thundered through the house. "YOU CALL THIS CLEAN? GET BACK HERE!"

Ivy blinked the sleep from her eyes, dragging herself to the door.

"FIND HER NOW OR DON'T COME BACK INSIDE THIS HOUSE!"

She opened the door to the hallway, standing in her pajamas, listening to the chaos below.

Elias's fury echoed through the halls as maids scrambled. Ivy leaned against the doorway, rubbing her eyes. She didn't bother asking.

She didn't need to.

Celeste was gone. Of course she was.

There'd been tension last night, and this morning Elias was howling at the help like they'd misplaced his daughter. Ivy didn't need the pieces handed to her.

Celeste had run off.

She was always too tightly wound, too dramatic, too everything. Ivy could already hear her saying it with a dramatic hair flip: "I'm not a pawn, father."

Ivy didn't feel concern. She didn't even feel surprised. Just tired.

She turned, dressed quickly, and headed downstairs without a word.

The tonic was waiting on the table, unsupervised. She drank it without hesitation, grabbed her bag, and left before Elias could notice or bark her name.

Thornbridge Veterinary Center – 8:10 AM

Bonnie greeted her with a frown. "You okay, sweetheart?"

Ivy nodded. "Rough morning."

Bonnie gave her a once-over. "You want coffee? Or a kitten to scream into?"

Ivy smiled faintly. "The kitten, please."

She found peace again in the back room-organizing syringes, prepping treatment trays. Her mind quieted with the rhythm. That was until Dr. Thorne poked her head in.

"Lang. Front desk. We've got a walk-in."

"On it."

She headed to reception where Finn leaned against the counter, trying to balance a dog biscuit on his nose.

"Is this... training?" she asked, raising a brow.

"Stress relief."

Bonnie nudged his arm. "Client's here. Act professional, please."

The bell above the door chimed.

Ivy turned toward the entrance-and immediately froze.

The man who walked in wasn't their usual Braeview type. He wore a dark wool coat, perfectly tailored, with matching gloves he removed finger by finger. His face was sharp-cheekbones like blades, jaw clean-shaven, and his eyes... cold.

Too cold.

"I have a pup," he said simply, his voice smooth but clipped. "Sick. Vomiting. Not eating."

"Of course," Ivy said, recovering. "We'll take him right back. What breed?"

"Mid-sized. Wolf mix."

Of course it is, she thought. "Room Three, please."

He followed her silently. There was something off about him. The way he looked at the walls-too observant. Like he was cataloging exits.

She opened the door. "Set him down here, I'll take a look."

He did. The animal was still, too still. The moment Ivy approached, it snapped its head up. Not threatening-but alert. Aware. Almost... recognizing her.

"What's his name?"

"Ghost."

Of course it is.

She kneeled, gentle fingers brushing Ghost's fur. He didn't flinch. In fact, he leaned forward and sniffed her hand like he knew her. Her fingers tingled.

"Has he been around any wild animals?"

"No."

"Is this his first vet visit?"

"Yes."

"Any trauma?"

"No."

Every answer came too fast.

She glanced up at him. He was watching her-not the dog. Not the room. Her.

"You're not from Braeview, are you?" she asked casually.

"No."

"Visiting?"

"Passing through."

Finn poked his head in. "Everything alright?"

"Fine," Ivy said quickly.

The man stood as Finn entered. He straightened his coat with precise movements. "I'll wait outside."

Once he left, Ivy whispered, "That guy's giving me assassin energy."

Finn raised an eyebrow. "I was going to say tax auditor, but sure."

She turned back to Ghost, who had gone utterly still again.

And for a brief moment, as she touched his chest, she swore she felt two heartbeats.

© 2025 Rosemary Chibunna Chinaza. All rights reserved. Do not copy or reproduce without permission.