Page 113 of Declan

And what I saw cut me to the bone. It made my heart bleed.

“Ashaki Maloof fucked me over,” I blurted out.

Emmy did a slow blink.

“Do you know Natasha? The girl who was found in Alaska?”

My sister nodded.

“She fucked her over, too. But worse than what she did to me. Now that the guys have Natasha’s real name—it’s Sarah, by the way—once they start digging, they’re gonna find that it was Ashaki who was behind her being given to the human traffickers. Whether Ashaki bought her or kidnapped her, I don’t know. But her Grand Plan O’ Revenge was for Sarah to disappear into the bowels of the underworld where evil lives.”

“What?” Emmy breathed.

“And for the last nine years, I’ve trusted her. She took me under her wing and gave me a purpose when I felt like I had nothing. She helped me. I thought I could trust her and I did. I even defended her when the guys weren’t sure about her. And it turns out that everything was a big ol’ lie. She wasn’t out for justice, she was out for revenge.”

Emerson carefully blanked her face and sat with her back straight, hands clutched tightly in her lap.

“Just like we were,” she whispered.

And I felt those words hit my chest with such force I actually took a step back.

I could lie to myself, look in the mirror and tell myself I was on the righteous path, one that saved lives, but the truth was I hadn’t done it with a good heart. I hadn’t had pure intentions. I was out for my own brand of retribution.

“You never should’ve—”

I didn’t finish my thought because Emerson surged to her feet, lifted her hand, and angrily pointed her finger in my direction.

“You do not get to tell me what I should’ve or shouldn’t have done. I will never fully understand what happened to you. I will never be in your shoes. I will never have to live with what you have to. But you don’t know what it’s like to be me. You will never understand what it’s like to see your sister, your best friend, someone you love deeply…” Emerson abruptly stopped, her face twisted in anger, and she spat, “Die. Only you weren’t dead and gone. You were a walking zombie. Every day, it festered inside of you and I watched it eat you. I watched it kill you. Then you were gone and all I felt was guilt because I was so relieved I didn’t have to witness my sister dying.” She ended on a shout and I was shocked into silence.

“If you think I feel any remorse for what I’ve done, you’re wrong,” Emmy continued. “You think you were alone, lost, with no one? Well, guess what, sister, I was out there feeling that, too. So don’t tell me what I never should’ve done.”

All right, well, okay. “You’re right, I don’t get to tell you that.”

Emerson did a slow blink, then her shoulders relaxed a little.

“Do I at least get to say I’m sorry?” I asked.

“Absolutely not. You’ve done not a damn thing to apologize for.”

“I pushed—”

“No, Autumn, I pushed. I wanted you to heal on my clock. I wanted you to see me and suddenly everything would be all better. It was selfish. I’m sorry for that. But I hope you know I only did it because I love you.”

“I know,” I muttered. “I’m never gonna be normal.”

“Normal? What the hell does normal even mean? You’re alive, you’re breathing again, and that’s all that matters.”

I was breathing again.

“Is there any way we can put everything behind us and go from here?” I asked, and Emmy’s shoulders snapped back straight, and her eyes narrowed.

“Do you really need to ask that?”

Ten years ago, no, I wouldn’t have asked. Emmy and I would’ve just moved past an argument without discussion. But this wasn’t an argument—this was years of pain. My actions leading my sister down a path she never should’ve been on, her missing out on a life she should’ve had, including the man she loved.

So, yes, I needed to ask. But I still gave her the answer she wanted.

“No, I don’t need to ask.”