After I tell Becks that sounds good, he takes my hand and we walk down the hall. All the medical rooms are on the same floor, so he nods at the bathroom door, letting me know that he’ll round up some clothes for me while I shower. I’m thankful for the soft scrubs, but real clothes sound nice.
When I undress, I catch a quick glance at myself in the mirror. My skin is a patchwork of bruises, including light ones decorating my chin where the demon grabbed me.
I look away quickly. I don’t want to feel sorry for myself. I’m lucky to be alive.
Far luckier than Kendra or Tate.
The shower feels like heaven on my sore body. I lean my head against the tile as water runs over my head and back, sliding down my body and soothing my sore muscles. I try to clear my mind, but without Becks as a distraction, I can’t get Kendra and Tate out of my thoughts. Their parents and loved ones will probably never know what really happened to them.
Kendra’s parents were notified of her death. The Order already covered it up as a car accident, and I’m sure they’re grieving. But it might be even worse for Tate’s parents. All they know is that she’s missing, and they must be worried sick.
Silent tears run down my face, and I muffle my sobs with my hands, not wanting Becks to hear me if he’s still out there.
Minutes tick by while I’m swallowed in grief before I can muster the will to wash myself. I go through the motions of shampooing my hair and soaping up my body woodenly. It takes a while to work the knots out of my hair. I have to condition it twice before I can run my fingers through it. My fingers are pruned by the time I finally turn the spray off and step out of the shower.
I wrap a towel around myself and peek out the door to see if Becks is back. I’m surprised to find Locklyn sitting in a chair waiting for me instead.
She hasn’t noticed me yet. She’s staring down at her hands, looking deep in thought with a frown on her face and her brow bunched.
When I open the door a little wider, she jerks her head up.
“Oh, hey,” she says, and then jumps out of the chair.
She grabs some folded clothes set on another seat that I didn’t notice and hands them to me. “I’m not sure if we’re the exact same size, but I think these should fit.”
“Thanks,” I say, looking over the soft bundle. When I glance back up at her, she’s searching my face. Probably taking note of my red eyes right away.
“Nothing like a good, long, hot shower to feel like yourself again, right?” she says, with what looks like a forced smile.
“Yeah. I’m just going to . . .” I gesture toward the bathroom and she nods.
Retreating to the bathroom, I quickly change into a pair of leggings and an oversized off-the-shoulder long-sleeved shirt, grateful for the soft and stretchy clothes. When I come back out of the bathroom, it’s to find Locklyn pacing.
“Sorry,” she says quickly. “I-I didn’t mean to make this weird. Becks said you needed some clothes so I offered to bring some of mine, and . . . I wanted to check on you before I left.”
The tension that hung in the air at the cabin is back full-force, making my stomach knot. This is my sister. I don’t want it to be there, but I’m not sure how to push past it.
“That’s okay,” I say, even though my chest tightens. I gesture vaguely toward the chair. “You can sit. You don’t have to hover.”
She lets out a breath and sits, folding her hands together like she’s bracing herself. There’s an awkward pause that stretches between us, thick and familiar in a way I don’t like.
“I’ve been meaning to talk to you,” she says finally. “But I wasn’t sure how.”
The words knock something loose inside me. I sit on the edge of the bed, damp towel clutched tighter around my middle even though I’m already dressed. I’m not sure what Locklyn wants to say to me, but I have a few things to confess.
“I’ve been having a hard time,” I admit before I can overthink it. “With . . . everything.”
Locklyn nods slowly. She doesn’t interrupt.
“With you,” I add, and wince. “Not you exactly. Just having you here. All of a sudden my parents are trying so hard to make space for you, and I know they should, but sometimes it feels like I’m being shoved to the side. Like I’m sharing something that used to be mine.”
My throat burns. “I hate that I feel that way. I hate that I even think it.”
Locklyn’s expression softens, something like relief crossing her face. “Thank you for telling me. I never wanted you to feel like I was taking anything from you. Especially not them.”
I nod, staring at my hands. “And then there’s Becks . . .” I force myself to meet her gaze. “When I found out you and he dated, it messed with my head.”
Her eyes widen. “He finally told you about all that?”
