Page 182 of Storm Caller

Of course. It makes sense.

I saw her take him that night. It should have occurred to me the moment we walked into this room.

She looked me in the eye and told me she tried to help him.

But she fucking lied about that, too.

“Raine,” I whisper, pressing my hand to the glass. “Raine, no.”

My father appears at my side, and I watch his face as he registers who is in this tank. The brother I loved with my entire heart.

Color drains from my father’s cheeks as his expression transforms. I’ve always assumed my father doesn’t feel very much. He’s never worn his emotions. He’s always been a blank wall. Just coldness I could never penetrate, and I stopped trying a long time ago.

I don’t know what shifted in the last few months, but something has changed.

My father has always been a mystery to me, but in this moment, I feel his heart break.

I see the second it cracks, written in the lines around his eyes and mouth.

The shattering of something delicate that he might have been trying to protect.

The reminder that even the worst monsters have a heart.

“My boy,” he says softly, laying his hand next to mine.

He drops his head, his hair falling, shoulders shaking. I watch as a tear slips off his nose and hits the concrete floor, leaving a dark spot.

I didn’t know my father could actually cry.

I’m not sure why realizing that makes the inside of my chest ache.

His lips are moving, but I can’t hear what he’s saying.

I’m sorry, maybe, but I can’t be sure.

What specifically is he apologizing for? He has so much to account for.

It takes him a moment to look up. He peers at me, and we watch each other.

Henry, Navy, Justin, and even Rook have made their way over.

I turn to Henry, who approaches.

He’s blinking rapidly, trying to hold back a flood of tears.

I take his hand and squeeze it.

“Raine,” he says with a quiver in his voice. “I . . . miss you every day.”

The three of us stand together, forced to come to terms with the truth. Finally. After years of wondering. All this time, he was right here, while Rook and his people took the blame for his death.

“Can we get him out?” I ask, already knowing it’s hopeless.

“He’s been in there for years,” my father says softly. “You remember what Dr. Mowry said. He’s effectively . . . no longer of this world.”

“But we could try!” I say, suddenly verging on frantic. This has all been too much. I want him back. I want to hug my brother one more time. “He can feel it! He’s endured this for years! Find something to break it! We need to try!”

I’m sobbing now, tears coating my face, my heart whipping so hard I think I might faint.