Page 198 of One of Those Amnesia Stories

She tilted her face up, and for a second, the whole world narrowed to her eyes, her smile, the way she looked at me like I was the only thing in the room that mattered.

She kissed the corner of my mouth, light and quick, a promise for later.

“Let’s go.”

“I“I wouldn’t ask you to be here if I didn’t absolutely need you. You know that, right?” Liam’s hands were still on the steering wheel, even though the engine was off, even though we’d been sitting in the driveway for a full minute.

“Liam.” I unclipped my seatbelt. “This is the third time you’ve mentioned this.”

He finally pulled his hands off the wheel and did the same. “Yeah. But you absolutely know it, right? Like, deep down in your bones, you know I wouldn’t—”

“Yes.” I opened my door. “Now can we go inside?”

He was out of the car before I’d finished the word, his jaw already tight, his shoulders already set. We were at Michael’s house.

Liam fell into step beside me, his pace slowing as we reached the study door. He had been trying to talk to his father for weeks. Every time he called, every time he showed up at the door, he got the same answer: Bring Cassian, and we’ll talk.

Liam didn’t want to get me involved at all, and I could see how much it was killing him to ask me to be here. But we needed to get this over with.

Michael sat behind his desk, turning something slowly between his fingers—an old photograph, perhaps, though I couldn’t make out the details from where I stood. Then he looked up at the sound of our footsteps. Something changed in his face. It was small. Almost nothing. Just the faintest shift around his mouth, a glint of anticipation in his eyes. Satisfaction, maybe.

“My two sons,” he said, spreading his arms wide. “Finally home.”

My jaw gritted. Son. When was everyone around me going to stop using that word like a leash? When was I going to stop flinching every time someone tried to claim a piece of me that wasn’t theirs to take?

Liam went straight to the point. “Where’s Cassandra?”

Michael’s smile didn’t move an inch. “You come home after so long, and I don’t even get a hello?”

Liam’s jaw tightened. “Hello, how are you, I don’t care. Where is my sister?”

Michael stared. For a long moment, neither of them moved, and then he reached for his phone with unhurried ease. “Bring Cassandra down.”

I stood by the door, watching Liam’s hands curl into fists at his sides, watching Michael settle back into his chair like a king granting an audience.

The door opened. Mrs. Morris stepped in first, then Cassandra behind her, looking sickly and haggard.

Her eyes found me immediately. A smile flickered across her gaunt face, tentative, hopeful. “Cassian—”

Liam stepped between us before she could say anything more, blocking her view of me. “Cassandra. Let’s go home.” His voice softened. “You don’t have to stay here anymore.”

She looked at him, confusion creasing her brow. “I am home.”

“No.” His hand dropped to her arm, holding her gently. “Not this house. Not this place.” He stepped closer, bringing his other hand to her shoulder, looking at her with a desperate steadiness, like he could somehow make her understand simply by holding her gaze. “Let’s go to my house. We’ll figure it out. We’ll—” He swallowed. “Let’s go there, okay?”

Cassandra stared at him for a long moment. Then, slowly, she pulled herself out of his reach.

“Now you care?” Her voice was sharp. “You didn’t care when I got fired. You just stood there.”

“Because what you did was wrong.” He ran a hand through his hair, frustration bleeding into his voice. “Cassian is married. You know he’s married. Whatever you thought was happening, whatever Dad told you—” He stopped, pressing his palm against his eyes. When he lowered it, his face was stripped bare. “I should have been there. I should have paid more attention. I should have seen what was happening and stopped it before it got this far. I left you alone with him, and I am so sorry.” His voice broke on the last word. “But I’m here now. So let’s go.”

For a second—just a second—something broke through. Her eyes, so cold and dark and still, flickered. Her chin trembled. She was there, for a moment, the sister who used to follow him around the house, who used to beg him to play with her.

Then she blinked, and it was gone. “You should go. I don’t want to go anywhere with you.”

Liam looked defeated.

I’d seen him angry. I’d seen him frustrated, exhausted, desperate. But this—this was something else. His shoulders had collapsed in on themselves, his hands hanging uselessly at his sides, and there was something in his face I’d never seen before. Something that looked like a man who had finally run out of fight.