My breath tore free as Harry was yanked backward, his shoulder slamming against the ground. I staggered, my vision swimming. Shapes blurred into one another — the alley, the looming walls, Harry struggling upright. And another figure, fists clenched, eyes blazing.
I blinked, struggling to focus. My heart stumbled, part terror, part hope.
"Stay down," the newcomer's voice thundered, sharp and low.
Harry sneered, wiping blood from his lip. "Who the hell —?"
The answer came in a blur of motion. A fist connected with Harry's jaw, the sound sickening, final. He reeled, staggered, swung back wildly, but the other figure was quicker — ducking, driving forward, fists landing again, and again, until Harry crumpled against the wall.
The world narrowed to the sound of fists against flesh, Harry's grunts turning to curses, curses to pleas.
My breath came in ragged bursts, the alley swaying around me. I pressed my back to the bricks, fingers trembling against the rough surface, too afraid to move, too afraid to look away.
"Get out of here!" the stranger bellowed. "If you ever come near her again —"
Harry scrambled, half-crawling, half-running down the alley, his footsteps fading into the night.
Silence dropped, broken only by my ragged breathing.
I leaned against the wall, pulling myself upright until I was sitting on the cold ground, knees pulled tight, hands shaking so badly I could hardly clasp them together.
My head throbbed where I'd hit the wall, but worse was the icy weight in my chest, the echo of his words, his hands, his rage.
Then — softer now, the storm in his voice tempered — came words I hadn't expected.
"Emma… it's me. It's Teddy."
I blinked, lifting my gaze. My brother stood there, chest heaving, fists still clenched, knuckles bloodied. His face was pale but set, jaw tight. When our eyes met, the fury slipped, leaving only worry.
"Teddy?" My voice cracked, weak and small.
He crossed the space in two strides, crouching in front of me. His hands, still trembling from the fight, hovered before gently, carefully helping me up. His touch was firm but gentle, like he was afraid I might shatter.
"I've got you," he said, steady and certain. "You're safe now. I've got you."
The words cracked something inside me. My breath hitched, and before I could stop myself, I was clutching at his shirt, burying my face against him. All the strength I'd used to hold myself together, crumbled. I shook with sobs I couldn't contain.
Teddy wrapped his arms around me, holding me tight, his chin brushing my hair. "It's okay," he murmured. "It's over. He's gone. He won't touch you again."
But the fear still clung like smoke in my lungs, the memory of Harry's hands, his words. "He — he said —"
"Forget what he said," Teddy cut in sharply, but his voice softened immediately. "He doesn't get to say anything about you. He doesn't matter. You hear me? You're worth more than he could ever understand."
I nodded against him, though the tears kept coming. My cheek throbbed where I'd been slapped, and fear still gripped me so tightly my body wouldn't stop trembling.
Teddy just held me tighter, his hand rubbing circles on my back, steadying me, grounding me.
When my breathing finally began to slow, I pulled back slightly, enough to see his face. His knuckles were split, red and raw, but he didn't seem to notice. His eyes searched mine, fierce and protective, and for the first time in so long, I realised — he wasn't just my little brother anymore.
"You — how did you…?" My voice cracked.
"I was heading home," he said simply. "I heard you. I heard you scream." His jaw tightened. "I'm glad I did."
Fresh tears stung my eyes. I tried to speak, but the words tangled in my throat. Thank you. I'm sorry. I was scared. All of it swirled, but nothing came out.
"You don't have to say anything," Teddy said quietly, as if he'd read my thoughts. "Just… let's get you home."
He slipped his arm around me, steadying me as I leaned into him, my legs shaky, my heart still hammering. The night air felt colder now, biting against my damp cheeks. Every shadow seemed sharper, every sound louder. But Teddy's arm around me was steady, strong, and for the first time since the alley swallowed me, I didn't feel like I was alone.
By the time Teddy and I reached home, my legs felt like lead. My body hummed with leftover fear and adrenaline, and yet I clung to Teddy's hand, letting him guide me up the front path. The moment we stepped inside, the warmth of the house wrapped around me, so at odds with the icy crawl that still lingered in my chest.
Mum was in the kitchen, drying the last of the supper dishes, and Dad was reading in his chair by the fire. Both of them looked up at once when the door closed behind us.
One look at my face and Mum's tea towel slipped from her hand. "Emma?"
Dad stood, setting the paper aside. "What's happened?"
Before I could answer, Teddy's jaw tightened. "Harry Cooper happened." The words spat from him like fire, his fists still curled at his sides.
Dad's face darkened in a way I had rarely seen. His anger was quiet — controlled — but it shook the room. "What did he do?"
I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. My throat locked, as though if I said it aloud, it would make it all real again. Teddy filled the silence, voice low but steady as he told them. The alley, Harry's hands, the slap, the fight. My stomach churned hearing it all over again.
Mum was across the room in a heartbeat, her arms wrapping around me. Her embrace was firm, grounding, full of the kind of love that softened even her sharpest edges. "Oh, my girl… my darling girl," she whispered into my hair, her voice breaking.