The time between the two videos is about six hours.Where was I for six hours?
Panic claws at my throat, ripping into my flesh and turning me into something flighty and uncertain. I want to tell somebody; I want to feed this fear to someone close and coddling so that I don’t have to bear it alone.
But I’ve always taken everything on all alone. I’m the big brother, the eldest son. Every hard thing I’ve ever experienced, every one of Atlas’s skinned knees or Abigail’s nightmares, has fallen ontomyshoulders. To fix, to take care of.
Not due to neglect, but a genuine sense of responsibility and the way my siblings naturally tend to lean on me. Maybe this is why I’m having such a hard time accepting Julian and how Atlas seems to lean onhimrather than me lately.
And maybe this is why, as I stare at the videos on my surveillance app, I can’t think of a single person to tell. To share my problems with.
My walk back to Chastin is slow and measured, a sharp contrast to what is happening behind my skull. My anguishsurrounding Cameron and the loss of control over myownnights is battling, demanding dominance in my psyche.
“Atticus?” a small voice calls out, and as I stop halfway up the main staircase, I spot Atlas standing on the second-floor landing.
“Hello, darling,” I push out, trying my best to cover my fear and longing with a gentle smile.
“What’s happening?” he asks, big blue eyes wide and hands trembling.
“Huh?”
He takes a step back,awayfrom me, and I immediately make up the space, taking the rest of the stairs two at a time.
“Wait!” Atlas screeches, extending a hand to stop me from coming any closer.
“What’s wrong?” I push it out like a demand, but in reality, it sounds more pleading and frightened than anything else.
Atlas shivers, his eyes briefly darting toward Hall E3.
“Julie!” he suddenly calls out, loud and panicked. “Julian!”
The door to the drawing room swings open, and in a rush, Julian barrels out. His eyes land on my brother, wide and concerned, as he takes long strides to place himself at Atlas’s side.
“What is it, little bunny? Are you okay?” The desperate concern in his voice takes away a bit of the dislike I have for him, but it doesn’t feel nearly as good as I’d like it to. Not with Atlas staring at me likethis.
Like I scare him. Like I’m a monster.
“There’s something wrong with Atticus,” he whispers, his eyes flicking from me to Julian over and over again.
Julian turns his attention to me, and for a moment, he just stares. And then, as if something flips inside of him, his eyes widen once again.
“Atticus,” he begins, placating and gentle and definitelynotwith the proper formality. “What have you done?”
“Done?” I repeat, narrowing my gaze on him. “What doesthatmean?”
“I felt it before, just a little,” Atlas tells him, speaking as if I’m notright in front of them. “But now it’s worse. Now, he feels likeit.”
Surely he’s not… no. There is no way Atlas is comparing me to the demon that used to assault him.
The surveillance videos from last night feel as if they’re burning a hole in my pocket, straight through my phone and the fabric of my joggers.
Not so subtly, Julian grabs Atlas’s arm and moves him, using his own body to shield my baby brother fromme.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I sneer. “Get out of the way. Don’t hide him from me—I’m hisbrother.”
“Atticus,” Julian repeats, notching my anger just a bit higher. “We’re going to figure this out, but I think something has happened.”
“What?” I’m growing desperate and confused.
“Atlas told me about that night,” the attendee says, his voice daunting. “About you… you holding theBlack Bookover him as he slept.”
