Page 58 of What’s Left of Us

“I don’t know,” I said through my teeth. It was the truth. Like my parents, I hadn’t heard from Nat since late yesterday evening. We’d done our typical routine. I’d stayed up to cover for her until she got home. Only…she never came home. She never so much as texted.

At a certain point, it was inevitable that our parents discovered her missing. My only choice was to act as surprised as they were when they found her bedroom empty. If they noticed how tired I was—I hadn’t slept—they didn’t say.

That was why I messed up with Atlas, I decided. I hadn’t slept, I was worried out of my mind, and deep in the pit of my stomach, I knew I played a role in it. If something had happened to Nat, it was going to be my fault. I was her accomplice, after all. Not just last night, but for months.

“What aren’t you telling me?” His voice softened, hand on my elbow. His gaze drifted down to my feet. His were also bare, but of course, that wasn’t his concern. Like always, he was only worried about me. “Let’s go back inside.”

I shifted my weight. My toes were numb, but the rest of my body felt fiery hot.

“It’s bad, Atlas.” I glared at him, as if it was his fault my sister had gone off the rails. As if I wasn’t the one who kept handing her the keys. “It’s really fucking bad.”

He flinched when I cussed, and it drew a snarl out of me.

“If the cussing is too much, you won’t be able to handle the rest. It’s all fucking terrible.” I ripped out of his grasp. “I told you I don’t want to talk about it, but you were determined to drag it out.”

“Violet—”

“No,” I snapped. I stormed back into his house. In a matter of seconds, I knew what I needed to do. “Screw this, Atlas. Screw you. I’m going home.”

“I’m worried! Okay? Don’t be mad. I’m freaking out.” He was a step behind me, running a hand through his hair as I shoved my things into my backpack. I’d only started unpacking them when this fight started. Atlas crouched at my side. “Are you doing them too?”

I froze. Looked at him over my shoulder.

“That’s what it is, right?” he asked. His voice was hoarse. “Drugs? I mean, anyone can see it. Anyone who looks knows.”

“You don’t know anything.” I lurched to my feet. He rose too, instantly towering over me. He was ridiculously tall, making me feel so small in comparison. And yet, no part of me feared him like I did my father. “It’s none of your business, Atlas. Nat is fine.”

“You just said it’s bad!” He ran a hand through his hair again, tugging roughly at the strands. “How bad? What kind of drugs? Mushrooms? Coke? Is it just⁠—”

“Meth.” I didn’t mean to say it, but I couldn’t bear to hear him ask if it was just weed. Because Nat had fallen so far past weed, I no longer thought of that as a drug. “I think it’s fucking meth, okay?”

Atlas didn’t reply. The confession hung heavy over us. He stared with eyes so wide it’d be comical if this weren’t a literal nightmare.

“I might be wrong,” I said quickly, wishing more than anything I could take the confession back. “I just found some stuff in her sock drawer, and when I looked at different pictures online…that’s what it looked like. But I’ll talk to her. I’ll get her to stop. All right? I’ll⁠—”

“Jesus.” Atlas cupped my face, gentle, even as he stared at me in horror. “This is not something you can fix, Vi. She needs help. Real help. You have to tell your parents.”

“No.” I ripped out of his touch. He had no idea what he was saying. He had no idea what my dad would do if he found out. I grabbed my backpack off the floor and slung it over my shoulder. I had to get out of here before I said anything else damning. “No, Atlas. Trust me, that’s not an option.”

“Don’t leave,” he said desperately. “We need to talk about this.”

“We will,” I said, even as I moved for his door. “I need to fix this first. Just…just promise me you won’t say anything. Let me figure something out, okay?”

“Violet—”

“Promise me,” I snapped. I was barely holding back tears, but I needed to hear it before I walked through the door. “Please, Atlas. Promise me.”

“I promise,” he whispered.

I surged forward, pressing a chaste kiss on his lips, and then left him standing in the entryway. By the time I got home, my parents were locked in their bedroom. I retreated to my own room, and rather than text Atlas, I texted my sister.

Where are you?

Are you okay?

Please text me. I love you.

It was another hour before we heard from Nat. She sent a group text to me and my parents, saying that she was okay. Her phone had died, supposedly, and she’d fallen asleep at one of her tennis friend’s houses. She promised to be home soon, and shortly after that, Mom took me to run errands.