Kim’s voice was uncharacteristically soft the following day when she called Harper that morning. “Ivy’s not feeling well today,” she said. “We’re canceling the shoot. Just wanted to give you a heads-up.”

  Harper frowned, already slipping on her sneakers. “Is she okay? Did she say what’s wrong?”

  “Just said she’s sick. I think she’ll be fine after some rest.” Kim hesitated, then added, “Don’t bother her, Harper. Let her recover.”

  But as soon as the call ended, Harper grabbed her keys. She couldn’t sit still, knowing Ivy wasn’t feeling well. The idea of her curled up alone, sick and miserable, didn’t sit right with her.

  Harper also hadn’t been able to have a moment to chat with Ivy the previous day as Avery had monopolized her time, and because it was a paid shoot, Harper had to go along with it, allowing herself to be dragged off for a paid dinner with the entire crew and most of Avery’s staff after the shot had ended.

  By the time Harper got home, she was beat and had decided to call it a night. She decided to check in with Ivy the next day during their next shoot.

  Harper decided to head to the supermarket first to pick up some fresh food and medicine if they sold any. The supermarket was bustling with mid-morning shoppers, and Harper quickly found herself in the spotlight. Fans approached her excitedly, snapping selfies and chatting about her test shoots, but she kept focused. She politely greeted everyone and allowed them to take pictures; however, she also quickly made a beeline for the items on her grocery list. Once she paid for her groceries, she quickly left the store, wanting to get to Ivy as soon as possible.

  With instant soups, cold medicine, pre-cooked chicken breasts—her go-to comfort food—chocote and ice cream, Harper left with bags full of options.

  Her heart lifted slightly as she imagined Ivy’s reaction to the care package. Maybe she could make her smile, even if just a little. Harper drove toward the cottage, humming to the radio, preparing to see a cozy little scene—a sick but endearing Ivy bundled up under bnkets.

  But as she pulled up to the driveway, her heart dropped.

  The picturesque cottage, always pristine and warm, was in ruins. Toilet paper hung from the trees like ghostly tendrils, eggs had been hurled at the walls, their rotting stench wafting through the air, and crude graffiti marred the once-charming facade. Harsh slurs and curse words painted in ugly strokes defiled the cottage, the vibrant colors cshing grotesquely against the soft hues of Ivy’s home.

  Harper smmed on the brakes, throwing the car into the park and rushing toward the house. The grocery bags were forgotten in the back seat, as she rushed to the door.

  “Ivy?” she called, banging on the front door. The silence was deafening.

  Panic cwed at her chest as she circled the house, knocking on windows and shouting Ivy’s name. “Ivy! It’s Harper! Are you in there?”

  When there was no response, Harper grabbed her phone and called Kim back. “I need Ivy’s number,” she demanded, her voice trembling.

  “Why? What’s going on?” Kim’s arm was clear.

  “Just give it to me.”

  Moments ter, Harper was dialing Ivy’s number, her fingers shaking as she pressed the call button.

  It rang twice before a faint, broken voice answered. “H-Hello?”

  Harper exhaled sharply. “Ivy, thank God. Where are you? Are you okay?”

  The sound of Ivy sniffling punctuated a long pause. “I’m…fine. Harper? Is this your number?

  “Yes, and I’m at your house. Where are you?”

  There was a pregnant pause before Ivy spoke again.

  “Y-You’re at my house…oh god, I…didn’t want you to see it like this,” Ivy said, a quiet sob breaking her soft voice.

  Harper’s heart clenched at the sound of Ivy’s soft cries.

  “Ivy, where are you?” Harper asked again, firmer and tense.

  “U-upstairs. In the studio. Don’t come in the house.”

  “I’m already here,” Harper said firmly. “Tell me how to get to you.”

  Reluctantly, Ivy gave her directions to a hidden staircase tucked behind the studio’s side door. Harper sprinted there, wrenching open the creaky door of a silo that was at the far end of the house, barely visible from the front, and ascending the narrow staircase two steps at a time.

  At the top, she found Ivy curled up in a small, dimly lit space that smelled faintly of paint and wood polish. A makeshift bed of bnkets was piled in the corner, and a cold pte of shepherd’s pie sat untouched on a nearby table. Beside her was Harper’s portrait, carefully propped up as though it offered some measure of comfort.

  “Ivy,” Harper breathed, kneeling beside her.

  Ivy looked up, her face streaked with tears and pale from exhaustion. “I didn’t want you to see…” she whispered, her voice cracking.

  Harper’s heart broke at the sight. Without a word, she pulled Ivy into her arms, holding her close as the scene's weight settled over them. Ivy clung to her, her sobs muffled against Harper’s shoulder, and Harper stroked her hair gently, murmuring soothing words she wasn’t sure Ivy could hear.

  “It’s going to be okay,” Harper whispered, her voice steady despite the storm raging inside her. “I’m here now. We’ll figure this out together.”

  For the first time since arriving, Ivy let herself truly cry, and Harper stayed with her, steadfast, promising silently that she wouldn’t let anyone hurt Ivy again.

  ++

  Harper cradled Ivy against her chest, feeling the artist's frail body tremble with each heart-wrenching sob. The small room felt oppressive, but Harper focused entirely on Ivy, her anger simmering beneath the surface. She kept stroking Ivy’s hair, murmuring soothing sounds, waiting for the storm of tears to subside enough for Ivy to speak.

  Finally, Ivy’s voice broke through, quiet and shaky. “They came… st night. I don’t even know who they were.” She hiccupped, her breath hitching as more tears spilled down her cheeks. “They screamed… called me names. Said I was… disgusting… and worse.”

  Harper’s grip tightened instinctively, her jaw clenching. “What names?” she asked, her voice low and dangerous.

  Ivy shook her head, unable to repeat the words. Her hands gripped Harper’s shirt, knuckles white. “They wanted me to come out… they pounded on the doors. Threw things. Eggs, I think. And…” She swallowed hard. “I was so scared, Harper. I thought they might break in.”

  “They didn’t, though,” Harper said firmly, pulling back just enough to look into Ivy’s tear-streaked face. “They didn’t get to you.”

  Ivy sniffled, nodding faintly. “I grabbed your painting… I thought… they might destroy it if they got inside. It was the only thing I could think of. I just ran up here and hid.”

  Harper cupped Ivy’s face, wiping away the tears with her thumbs, her expression darkening. “You hid here all night?”

  Ivy nodded again, her voice barely a whisper. “I didn’t even sleep. I just… waited for them to leave.”

  Harper’s heart ached, but anger became hotter, sharp and unrelenting. “And no one came to help you?”

  “No one,” Ivy said, her voice breaking. “Not until you showed up.”

  Harper let out a slow, measured breath, trying to rein in the rage coursing through her. “You should’ve called Kim,” she said, her voice softer now, though still tinged with steel. “She or I would’ve been here in a heartbeat.”

  “I didn’t want to bother you,” Ivy admitted, her gaze dropping in shame.

  “Bother me?” Harper’s voice rose slightly, then softened again as she pulled Ivy closer. “Ivy, you’re not a bother. Ever. I don’t care what time, where I am, or what I’m doing. If you need me, you call me.”

  Ivy hesitated, then nodded. “Okay.”

  Harper pressed a kiss to Ivy’s head, her lips lingering. “I’m going to take care of this,” she said firmly. “No one gets to do this to you. No one.”

  “There’s nothing to be done,” Ivy whispered. “I don’t even know who they were.”

  “Do you have cameras?” Harper asked sharply, already forming a pn in her mind.

  “There’s… one,” Ivy admitted. “But it’s old, and the footage is grainy. You can’t see much.”

  “Doesn’t matter,” Harper said, determination bzing in her eyes. “I’ll take a look at it. And if I can’t figure it out, I’ll hire someone who can. We’re going to find out who did this.”

  “But Harper—”

  “No buts.” Harper’s voice was firm but not unkind. She cupped Ivy’s face again, making her look up. “This is your home. Your sanctuary. They don’t get to take that from you. I won’t let them.”

  Tears welled in Ivy’s eyes again, but this time they were different—less fearful, more overwhelmed. “Why are you doing this for me?”

  Harper’s gaze softened, but the fire in her tone didn’t waver. “Because you’re mine to protect, Ivy. Whether you know it yet or not.”

  Ivy’s lips parted in surprise, but no words came. She let herself lean into Harper’s embrace, feeling the weight of her fear slowly lift as Harper’s strength wrapped around her like a shield.

  “I promise you,” Harper murmured, her voice low but steady. “No one will ever hurt you like this again. I’ll make sure of it.”

  Ivy nodded, finally letting herself believe Harper’s words. In that moment, she felt safe—not because the world had suddenly changed, but because Harper’s arms around her made it seem like it could.

  +++

  Harper stepped outside, phone pressed to her ear, her voice low but cutting. “Kim, I need you on a video call. Now.”

  “Harper, what’s going on?” Kim’s tone was sharp with concern, but Harper’s short reply silenced her questions.

  “Just get on the call.”

  When Kim appeared on the screen, Harper turned the camera toward the devastation. The dull, gray afternoon light illuminated the egg-spttered walls, the shredded toilet paper hanging like morbid streamers in the trees, and the graffiti scrawled in hateful red across Ivy’s cottage.

  “Oh, my god,” Kim breathed, her usually composed voice faltering.

  “Yeah,” Harper said ftly. “This is what Ivy woke up to. What she had to hide from all night.” Her tone was like a knife’s edge, cold and precise.

  “I’ll be there in twenty minutes,” Kim said, all business now. “I’m bringing a team. Stay put.”

  “Not like I’m leaving her alone,” Harper muttered before hanging up.

  By the time Kim arrived, fnked by two burly men with serious expressions, Harper had already taken control of the situation. She stood near the front of the house, arms crossed, her eyes a storm of fury. She hadn’t left Ivy’s side until Kim arrived, and even now, her focus remained split between checking in on the artist and gring daggers at anyone who dared to approach the art studio.

  Kim stepped out of the car, taking in the scene with a grimace. “This is worse than I thought,” she muttered.

  “No kidding,” Harper snapped, her patience already fraying.

  Kim’s team began assessing the damage, retrieving the old camera’s footage and canvassing the neighbors for any other angles they might have captured. Harper stayed rooted near the house, a silent sentinel, her dark presence an unspoken warning to everyone to tread carefully.

  When Kim approached, clipboard in hand, Harper’s gaze fixed on her like a hawk.

  “How is she?” Kim asked, her voice quieter now.

  “Fragile,” Harper said curtly. “And no, you can’t see her.”

  “Harper, I need to check in with her—”

  “No.” Harper’s voice was firm, a low growl of authority. “She doesn’t need a bunch of people swarming her right now. She’s barely holding it together. You want to help? Handle this mess. Leave her to me.”

  Kim bristled. “Harper, I get that you’re protective, but this is my client—”

  “She’s more than a client,” Harper interrupted, stepping closer, her gre unwavering. “And until this is sorted, she doesn’t need to deal with you or anyone else. Just focus on finding out who did this.”

  Kim opened her mouth to argue but thought better of it. Harper’s energy was volcanic, ready to erupt. With a frustrated sigh, she turned her attention back to her team.

  Inside the cottage, Harper carefully gathered some of Ivy’s clothes. She paused as she saw the window in Ivy’s bedroom had been covered in some shit-looking substance from the outside. Harper’s fist tightened as she thought of Ivy having been here and seen that, and she had been through all that alone.

  Harper swallowed hard before she bundled up the clothes and left the cottage through the back door, heading back to the silo where Ivy sat shivering in the cold room.

  Harper, speaking softly, coaxed the artist into changing. Ivy moved like a ghost, her steps hesitant, her expression hollow.

  “It’s okay,” Harper murmured, holding up a sweater. “This one’s soft, right? You like this one.”

  Ivy nodded faintly, letting Harper drape it over her shoulders. Harper’s touch was gentle, her movements deliberate, as though Ivy might shatter at any moment.

  “I’m just going to pack your painting into the car, okay?” Harper said, her voice low and steady. “Then we’re getting out of here.”

  Ivy didn’t respond, but Harper saw the slight tremor in her hands as she reached for her brush-stained jeans.

  Harper carried the painting out of the silo carefully, pcing it in the backseat of er car as though it were a sacred artifact. The sight of the vandalized cottage made her stomach churn, her fury bubbling up again. She stalked over to Kim, who was reviewing the grainy footage from the old camera.

  “Anything useful?” Harper demanded.

  Kim’s jaw tightened. “A group of young people. They showed up te at night and stayed for hours. They’re on every camera the neighbors had, too. We’ll get their faces.”

  “Good,” Harper said, her tone cold and cutting. “Because when we do, they will pay for every second of this.”

  Kim gnced at her, a flicker of unease in her eyes. “Harper, I need you to stay level-headed. Let the authorities—”

  “Don’t tell me to calm down,” Harper snapped. “This isn’t just about property damage. They terrorized her, Kim. Ivy doesn’t feel safe in her own home anymore. I’m not sitting on my hands while the cops ‘investigate.’”

  Kim exhaled sharply but didn’t press further. She’d never seen Harper like this—so raw, so fiercely protective.

  Harper turned without another word, heading back inside to Ivy. The moment she stepped through the door, her expression softened. She found Ivy sitting on the edge of her makeshift bed, clutching a bnket.

  “I got everything ready,” Harper said gently, crouching before her. “We’re leaving as soon as you’re ready.”

  Ivy looked at her, her eyes gssy and red-rimmed. “You don’t have to… do all this for me.”

  Harper’s jaw tightened, but her voice remained steady. “I do. Because you don’t deserve this, Ivy. And I’m not letting anyone hurt you like this again.”

  Her words hung in the air, heavy with promise. Ivy’s lips quivered, but no tears fell this time. Instead, she nodded and let Harper take her hand, guiding her toward the door and into the safety Harper was determined to provide.

  ***

  Harper carefully opened the passenger door of her car, her movements deliberate and precise. Ivy hesitated, clutching the bnket she’d wrapped around herself, her fragile frame trembling.

  “It’s okay,” Harper said softly, crouching to Ivy’s level. “Let’s get you somewhere safe.”

  Ivy nodded faintly, letting Harper guide her into the seat. Once Ivy was settled, Harper pulled a mask from her bag and slipped it over Ivy’s face, adjusting it gently over her ears.

  “Why—?” Ivy’s voice was barely above a whisper.

  “Just in case,” Harper murmured. “We don’t know if they’re still watching. This is just to keep you out of sight.” She hesitated before adding sungsses, her touch light but protective. “Better to be safe.”

  Ivy didn’t argue, sinking back into the seat as Harper tucked the painting securely into the back of the car. Her expression darkened as she closed the door, her mind churning with anger and worry.

  Kim had driven off to interview the neighbouring restaurants to see if she could glean even the tiniest information that might have been overlooked. While Harper waited for Kim to return, she went through Ivy’s things and gathered anything she figured would be important, such as Ivy’s passport, driving licence, wallet and house keys, putting them all in a cute wicker bag that she saw was pced neatly next to her Ivy’s bed, and hung it around her body, intending to pass it to Ivy ter. With Ivy’s items in hand, she left the house to sit and wait for Kim on the porch.

  Kim’s car pulled into the driveway moments ter. Parking just behind Harper’s car and getting out, Kim ran a hand through her hair. As she got out, she saw Ivy sitting in Harper’s car, staring listlessly into the woods.

  Before Kim could approach Ivy, Harper stood up from the porch step, her eyes narrowing as she stalked toward her.

  “I’ve got Ivy in the car,” Harper said curtly. “And the only thing she saved from this nightmare was that.” She pointed toward the backseat, where the painting sat, unharmed amid the chaos.

  Kim’s face paled, her unease evident. “I didn’t realize—”

  “Yeah, well, now you do,” Harper snapped, cutting her off. “Let’s talk inside.”

  Harper led Kim into the cottage, the stench of rotting eggs and ammonia thick in the air. The destruction was even more jarring in person—the hateful words scrawled across the walls, the shattered pnters, the filth that clung to every surface. Harper’s fists clenched at her sides as she turned to face Kim.

  “Look at this,” Harper said, her voice low but trembling with rage. “Look at what she’s dealing with. And tell me, Kim, how much longer are we going to pretend this is okay?”

  Kim shifted uncomfortably, her gaze darting around the ruined space. “Harper, I—”

  “No,” Harper interrupted, stepping closer. “You’re going to listen to me. Because this?” She gestured broadly at the devastation. “This isn’t just some ‘unfortunate incident.’ This is a direct result of Ivy getting caught up in your hair-brained scheme to boost viewership. And now it’s costing her everything—her peace, her safety. Hell, it’s costing her her life, Kim.”

  Kim’s jaw tightened, but she didn’t argue. “You think I don’t feel responsible for this? I never wanted any of this to happen.”

  “Then start counting the cost,” Harper shot back. “Because Ivy sure as hell is paying it. And if you’re unwilling to fix this, maybe it’s time to let her out of this contract before it destroys her completely.”

  Kim exhaled sharply, her hands on her hips as she stared at the floor. “You’re right,” she said finally, her voice grim. “This isn’t what I wanted for her—or anyone. I’ll talk to the legal team. If she wants out, we’ll break the contract. And I’ll ensure she gets paid for everything up front, no strings attached.”

  Harper’s eyes softened slightly, but her tone remained firm. “Good. But hold off on telling her for now. She’s barely holding it together. First, we deal with this—find out who did it, why they did it, and ensure they don’t get away with it.”

  Kim nodded, her expression resolute. “I’ve filed the police report. And my team is on this. I’m doing all I can with the resources we have at our disposal.”

  Kim turned and left the house without another word, her footsteps echoing down the porch steps. Harper stayed behind for a moment, her gaze lingering on the wreckage she could see that had been done to the beautiful trees that boarded Ivy’s home. Her fingers twitched, itching to do something, to fix something.

  She finally turned and returned to the car, where Ivy sat waiting. Opening the driver’s door, she slid in and gnced at her. “You okay?”

  Ivy nodded weakly, but Harper wasn’t convinced. “Don’t worry,” she said, her voice low and steady, a promise ced with steel. “I’m going to take care of this. No one will ever touch you—or your home—again.”

  Ivy’s lips trembled, but she didn’t speak. She leaned her head back against the seat, letting Harper’s words wrap around her like a shield.