Not to Disturb Him
Copyright© 2026 by Heel
Chapter 6
Rita did not wait.
The moment she understood that her body would not respond—that the silence below her waist was permanent—she reached for her phone. Not Antony. Not emergency services. She called someone who lived outside consequences.
An old friend.
He answered immediately this time, his voice rough, alert in the way only desperation can make a person. Rita spoke slowly, carefully. She did not cry. She told him she needed help now, that she needed to disappear from her life for a few hours and reappear somewhere else—broken in a way that no one could trace back to her home.
He did not ask questions.
He came.
When he arrived, Rita was already limp with exhaustion and shock, her body heavy in a way she had never felt before. She could not help him. She could not even assist. When he lifted her, her head fell against his shoulder, her legs unresponsive, her weight dead and unfamiliar even to herself.
She hated that part most.
He carried her without tenderness, but without cruelty—just effort. Her body no longer gave signals, no resistance, no instinctive tightening. She stared at the ceiling as he moved through the building, each passing second erasing the life she had lived there.
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