Chapter 2 - When Her Light Goes Out

Content warning: this section contains sensitive material involving sexual violence. Read only if you’re comfortable.

Rylee

When class ended, everyone was still talking about the same thing: the handsome Henry who’d modeled today.

Okay, he was attractive. But what made me even happier was that my painting got an A. I kept staring at the number on the paper, as if it might disappear.

“Earth to Rylee,” Hannah waved her hand in front of my face. “Were you smiling at Henry’s portrait?”

“No! I’m smiling at this.” I showed her the grade.

“Yeah, yeah… of course you got an A. Henry’s been staring at you all this time.”

My face warmed. “That was just a coincidence.”

We laughed softly as we walked down the hall toward the cafeteria.

Suddenly Professor Vaughn stopped me.

“Rylee Andrews. Any plans this afternoon?”

“Just the gym at six, Professor.”

“Good. After that, can you help me sort some paintings? A few students from other classes will be coming by.”

I nodded.

“Sometimes I’m jealous of you, Rylee,” Hannah whispered after he left. “Your family supports your art school, your parents are still together, and you’re Professor Vaughn’s favorite. Your life is almost perfect.”

I chuckled. “Not that perfect, Han. I’ve never been in love. For me… my dad, Stephen Andrews, can’t be replaced.”

Hannah scoffed. “That’s your problem. Your standards are too high.”

\~\~\~

I got to the gym at five, early on purpose so I wouldn’t be out too late getting to Professor Vaughn’s studio. I’d settled into my routine; today was leg day. Sweat poured down, my legs trembled, but there was a quiet satisfaction—I felt stronger than before.

My eyes scanned for a free machine I could use—not looking for Henry, not at all.

But as if the universe had other plans, Henry walked in a few minutes later carrying a big duffel bag.

I worked up the nerve to go over to him.

“Hi—we’ve run into each other a few times but never actually met. I’m Rylee. Rylee Andrews.” I said, holding out my hand.

He looked at it for a few seconds, then gave a brief shake. “Henry. Henry Collins.”

“So… what are you training for today?”

“Shoulders. Back.”

“You train every day?”

“Yes.”

“Are you really a model?”

“Yes.”

His answers were short. I sighed.

“All right then, sir. Please go back to your world. Sorry for interrupting you”

I turned away and headed for the locker room.

\~\~\~

My legs were still wobbly after leg day as I walked back to campus. I arrived at Professor Vaughn’s room earlier than I expected. It was quiet. Maybe i was too early because no one’s here.

I was about to leave when I found Professor Vaughn standing behind me.

“You came early,” he said.

“Yes, Professor. I thought we could finish it faster.”

He nodded and pointed to the stack of paintings. “Start tidying from that side.”

I began to work. But for some reason a bad feeling sat heavy on my chest. Not just from leg day—something else. Unease.

Suddenly a hand tapped my shoulder from behind.

“Why are you trembling like that, Rylee?” His voice was too close.

I froze.

“I love the smell of a woman after she works out… it’s my favorite, sweaty, delicious” he murmured.

I wanted to scream, but his hand clamped over my mouth roughly.

“If you scream, I’ll make sure you never pass my class. You’ll keep repeating it, and you’ll keep running into me. Fun, isn’t it?” His laugh was cold, cutting.

Tears slipped out before I could stop them. My body went rigid, trapped.

All I could do was hope—someone, anyone—would come to help.

My sobs broke out in silence. I tried to move, but my limbs stiffened while his body pinned me down the floor. His laughter echoed in my ears, the room seemed to shrink, the walls closing in with no escape.

Then everything began to blur.

The studio lights felt too bright, the sounds too loud, my breath caught.

Dark.

And there, I truly felt helpless.

\~\~\~

I lay weak on the studio floor. My shirt was torn, my hair tangled across my tear-streaked face. His breath at my ear felt like a threat.

“If you dare report me, or tell anyone about this, I swear, Rylee. You’ll keep running into me. Until finally you give up and kneel before me.”

I didn’t dare look at him. My body was frozen, my eyes full of tears. Then, suddenly, his hand forced my chin up roughly so I had to meet his face.

“So be a good girl. Tell anyone, and I’ll find you—again and again—until you learn your place.” He chuckled softly before stepping out.

He left me alone. Silence swallowed the room—only my fragile breathing and the echo of his footsteps fading away.

For a long while I just sat there, my body and mind numb. Slowly I stood, trying to straighten my ripped clothes, trying to stitch together the pieces of my shattered dignity. Then I walked without direction into the cold night.

Was this the end of my life? On that empty street, with my body and my shame making everything feel meaningless, the world felt as if it were collapsing around me.

\~\~\~

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