But I did.
He stopped a few paces away. “Kera—”
“Were you there?” My voice came out hoarse, but steady.
“What?”
“The sacking.” I took a step closer, each word sharper than the last. “Were you there, Aran? Did you help your friends burn our home to the ground?”
His face went pale. “What—? No. Kera—what are you even saying?”
“You heard what happened, didn’t you?” I snapped. “What your friends did?”
“They’re not my friends.” His voice cracked. “I had nothing to do with that. Just—please, let me explain—”
It hit me again. How normal he looked. Like the world hadn’t ended with him in it. Like he wasn’t a ghost wearing skin.
“How could you?” I seethed. “How could you just stand there?”
His jaw tightened. “I didn’t have a choice.”
The words cracked something open in me, and the grief snapped into rage.
“You let them kill him!” I roared. “You stood there. You watched. Are they here too? The others?”
“No,” he countered. “I’m not with them. I never was. I tried to protect you, all of you, but there was nothing I could do. You don’t understand—”
“Don’t.” I cut him off. “Don’t you dare tell me what I understand.”
I did understand. I understood exactly what it meant when someone stood there and chose silence. When someone turned their back on everything they once swore to protect. When someone like Aran decided his life was worth more than ours.
“You could’ve fought,” I said. “You said you would. You swore—”
“I didn’t know they were going to—”
“You fucking traitor.” I spat. The words felt like they burned coming out.
“You had a choice,” I said. “And you chose them.”
“I didn’t.” His voice broke. “Please. Just let me explain.”
“NO!” The scream scraped its way out like it wanted blood, like it had been sitting in my chest since the last time I saw him. “There’s nothing you can say. Nothing that makes it better. Nothing that brings them back. Not Einar. Not my parents. Not me.”
He stepped closer. Lifted his hand, like he thought he still had the right to reach for me.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “Kera, please. Just let me—”
Like he still had the right. Like I’d ever let him close.
“I’m sorry. Kera, please—”
“Don’t touch me,” I snapped. “Don’t youdare.”
But he did.
Aran reached for me, his fingers barely brushing my arm, and that was all it took. The fire within me responded.
It didn’t ask permission. It didn’t wait.
