Chapter Six
HELLO, DEAR SISTER
ORIE
Shit, I’ve spent all day debating if I text Raya about the art show, and now it’s nearly midnight. Tossing and turning won’t get me anywhere, and neither will avoiding this man, unfortunately.
How am I going to play this? I need to be smart. I can’t have Raya—or Gods forbid, Carson—finding out my real reason for wanting to go to the art show.
These feelings…
I don’t want anyone in Harmony Glen to be scared. What if I can’t control them, and they become dangerous? I don’t want to be dangerous anymore.
I don’t want anything to change.
Damn it, I have to go to that art show. If I’m going to figure this out before Orian gets here, I need to observe Carson as much as I can.
Both with his knowledge, and without.
I shoot Raya a text.
Will you and (or) Arman join me at an art show in town in a few days?
Pretty please with cherries on top? <3
Her response comes through pretty quickly, meaning she must not be streaming right now. Sometimes I lose track of her schedule, even though she’s had the same one since I’ve known her.
You want me to leave my house AGAIN this week?!
Before I can respond and continue begging, her typing bubbles appear. My thumbs hover above the keypad, waiting to see what she sends.
We’ll come, but only if we can get poutine for the next movie night!
I can’t help but laugh a little at her text. There aren’t many foods we disagree on, but poutine is one that shelovesand I think is just mediocre. Even so, the travel to Canada will be easy and worth it to have them join me at the art show.
You have yourself a deal. OH, and this was your idea, if anyone asks!!
???
I don’t respond to her last text of question marks, just turn off my phone and toss it aside. Staring at the ceiling, I try to focus on anythingbesidesCarson’s presence, whichdares to dominate my mind.
The battle is a losing one. A buzzing I can’t ignore flows through my body. Gods, how I wish I could turn off this tracking, if I can even call it that when it’s not by choice.
Something shifts in the darkness of my room, and I bolt upright. Eyes that I haven’t seen in quite some time appear across the room.
“Hello, dear sister.”
Reaching over, I flick on my lamp, narrowing my eyes as they adjust to the light.
Orian stands across the room, one arm raised to shield himself from the unexpected illumination.
He looks the same as the last time I saw him, except for a few new scars. What kind of trouble has he found himself in since I last saw him? Maybe I’mfinallynot the troublemaker of the two of us.
“Hello, brother.”
His arm falls to his side, and he pops his other hand onto his hip. Glancing around, he shakes his head, sighing. “Your room is amess.”
I roll my eyes. “Nice to see you, too.”
