Page 137 of Before We Break

“Bye, Cici,” Auggie says, wrapping his arms around my legs.

I return the embrace. “See you later, buddy.”

Noah ruffles Auggie’s hair before they leave hand in hand, talking and laughing, and my heart swells with pride.

A drop of chocolate ice cream lands on my thumb, and I lick it off, cleaning up the sides of the melting cone. “Take a walk with me?”

He nods once, tossing his own half-melted ice cream into the trash can. Without a word, Noah holds open the door and waits for me to exit. I dig into my ice cream, hoping the sweet treat will distract me from the dread coiling in my stomach.

As we pause on the sidewalk outside of Saps & Swirls, Noah’s thumb swipes across my bottom lip, and he brings it to his mouth, licking it off. Our eyes lock and hold for one tense moment before he breaks away and swallows hard. “Where to?”

I reach for his hand, but his fingers don’t curl around me the way they normally would. I try my best not to read too much into it, but it unsettles me all the same. Nothing makes sense right now. Everything feels… wrong.

I shove down the panic threatening to drown me, instead focusing on the sidewalk, hoping for a sign and maybe a little luck from Aunt Penny—anything but this overwhelming sense of dread.

NOAH

Jonah’s getting out.

Everything after that—the explanation about new evidence and an alibi—is a blur. Emma is ecstatic, and I don’t know how to feel. A good person would be happy to have their brother back, but truthfully, I’m petrified.

This last year hasn’t been easy, but I’ve finally come to terms with my life and everything that led me here. I’ve grown accustomed to having Auggie in my life. He’s happy. Thriving, even. We built our little family with Clio and Lexi. Jonah getting out throws a massive wrench in all of it.

He’ll take Auggie back, then he’ll self-destruct all over again, and we’ll be right back at square one. I love my brother. I will always love my brother, but Auggie deserves stability. If wanting to keep my nephew safe with me is selfish, then I’ll gladly wear that badge.

This is exactly why I tried to keep Clio at arm’s length. I didn’t want this part of my life to touch her. She clawed her way out of a life she didn’t want and built this new one for herself brick by brick—I can’t let Jonah walk back in and blow it away. I won’t let my past ruin her future. I refuse to live with that on my conscience.

I tighten my grip on Clio’s hand, needing the connection. If this is the last time, let it go on forever.

“Do you want the rest?” She offers me the last bite of her ice cream cone—the part she knows is my favorite.

Her hopeful smile pierces me. I want to commit her to memory, etch her into the very marrow of my bones this time. Ink and charcoal aren’t enough.

I lean forward and take it into my mouth, but it tastes like ash on my tongue.

The sun slips behind a dark cloud, and a shadow grows rapidly overhead. The distant crash of thunder is our only warning before rain pours down on us.

Clio squeals, dragging me away until we’re tucked safely under the gazebo in the town square. She’s smiling and laughing, soaked from head to toe. Anybody else would look like a drowned rat, but not Clio. Never Clio. She’s sunlight even in the midst of a summer storm.

I shake out my hair like a dog coming in from the rain, and she covers her face with her hands. A sad smile blooms across my face. I pull her into my arms for a kiss, a short-lived reprieve from my spiraling thoughts.

I cradle her face in my hands and swipe my thumbs under her eyes. She holds onto my wrists like she knows this is the end. My lips brush hers for what has to be the last time, and I stay there, savoring the moment for as long as I can.

When I finally pull away, her expression is pleading.

“Don’t,” she whispers. “Whatever this is. Whatever you’re about to do, don’t.”

“Give me your phone.”

“Why?”

“Just do it.”

She hesitates for the briefest of moments, then, with a trembling hand, places her phone in my upturned palm.

I linger on the lock screen photo of us before Lexi’s prom for only a second, then I tap into her calendar and set a daily reminder for her to take her meds, ignoring the churning in my gut.

Handing back her phone, I press my lips to her temple, then take a long step back. “I can’t do this anymore.”