Page 114 of Barinov

“What happened?” she asks again, softer this time. “Just tell me.”

I nod. “Luca put two and two together about me putting Ditmas Park on Knox’s radar when Krolek told him he was meeting you that night. They made a plan to take you right then and there but Tex—”

“Tex took him out before they could get to me,” she whispers, looking off as if she’s replaying the night in her head.

“He blamed me for everything. Krolek’s death, you not getting to Eden when he wanted, and messing up his precious timeline by forcing him to bring Jack back into your life.”

She scoffs. “Forcing him?”

“Yeah. Apparently he never wanted Jack to resurface for you, but with Krolek dead and the NYPD calling, he couldn’t just ignore it.”

“So that’s somehow your fault?” she bites, her voice bitter. “We killed the guy, not you.”

I shrug. “Never said his logic was solid.”

“No shit.”

“Look,” I continue. “All I know is that after that night, Luca came back to the house pissed. He got drunk and—” I exhale as a tear slides down my cheek. “He had Claire killed.”

“Oh my God,” she whispers, her fingers grazing her cherry-red lips.

“He took her away from me.” My voice fractures. I can’t bridge the gap between the memories and the words and I start shaking. “I lost myself. I tried, Bells. I fucking tried to hold on. For you. For h-her.” I rake a trembling hand down my face. “I wasn’t strong enough. He just… he just broke through.”

My sister’s there in an instant, a warm shadow in the dim light pulling me into the hollow of her shoulder. “Shh,” she whispers. “It’s okay. I’m here.”

“No.” The word comes out jagged and raw. I shake her off, my head spinning. “The things I did… the things I let that bastard—”

“Hey,” she cuts in, tightening her grip on me. “Stop.”

“NO!” I surge upright, tearing out of her reach. “You don’t understand what it’s like to have someone…”

The sentence dies as I pivot. I throw my entire weight into the mural.

CRACK.

The drywall groans under my fist, white dust puffing into the air like a dying breath. My knuckles throb, buried deep in the ruin of the wall.

“Zeke!” She’s on her feet. Her voice is a hushed but terrified hiss. “What happened to staying quiet?”

I don’t answer her. I let the wall take my weight, my spine scraping down before I hit the floor. She kneels down in front of me. Her fingers are soft and gentle as she takes my hands in hers, being careful not to squeeze my split knuckles too hard.

She sighs. “What’s your name?”

I glance up at her. “You know my name.”

“Humor me,” she whispers through a small smile.

“Ezekiel Malik Blackwood.”

“You’re my brother, my family. My hero,” she says, gently picking pieces of drywall out of my skin. “Nothing that’s happened here will ever change that. You understand me?”

“I’m no hero,” I mumble under my breath. “Not anymore.”

“That’s bullshit,” she snaps, gripping my chin and forcing eye contact. “How many kids have you saved over the years? Because I know I’ve lost count.”

I pull away. “That’s not the—”

“Do not interrupt me right now,” she cuts in sternly.