“But it didn’t.”
A tear slips down her temple.
“They don’t leave, Kael… the memories.”
A breath.
“They’ve just… learned how to live inside me.”
Fear does not grip her the same way it grips Kael. All he sees in her face is acceptance.
“No,” he rasps. “Do not let this darkness win, Nalya. Do not lethimwin.”
He runs his hands through her hair, wipes the cold sweat from her brow.
A small smile drifts onto her face.
“He already did,” she croaks.
No.
He shakes his head, refusing to accept it.
A shaky breath is ripped from her throat.
“I can’t do it anymore.”
The words settle between them.
Final.
Unarguable.
Kael shakes his head again, tearing strips of fabric from the sheet with his teeth.
He cradles his little sister, fastening the fabric over her bleeding wrists. He swats the blood-soaked letter opener from her side, sending it crashing into the far wall.
“We’ll get you help. We’ll do more,” he promises, clinging to her in the same way she reaches for death.
Two opposing forces.
Neither strong enough to undo the other.
“Please,” he chokes. “Don’t leave me. I just got you back.”
A small, fragile smile touches her lips.
“I’m not back, Kael.” Her eyes flicker—somewhere else. Somewhere far beyond the room. “I’m still there.”
A pause. A breath that trembles like it might break.
“It’s all I see.”
And he knows: it follows her into every moment that should have been different.
She closes her eyes, rasping breaths still moving in and out of her.
Tears spill across her temples more freely now.
