Page 243 of Barinov

I smile.

“How about you?” he asks.

“What about me?”

“How are you doing, Bella?

I blink. “I’m okay.”

One dark brow lifts.

“I mean it.” I laugh quietly. “I’m better than I was.”

“But?”

My smile fades as I stare into the dancing flames.

“I don’t know.” I shrug. “Some days I wake up and everything almost feels normal again.” I pick at the label on my beer bottle. “Then other days I remember he was my uncle before…” My throat tightens. “All of that.”

Dad doesn’t interrupt me.

“I hate that I still remember the good parts.”

He reaches over, squeezing my hand gently. “What did Dr. Monroe say?”

I huff out a breath. “That I’m perfectly normal.”

“I could’ve told you that.”

I snort. “He said that people don’t just get over something like this that fast and to give myself some grace.” My eyes burn. “But my brain keeps remembering him as Jack teaching me to ride a bike, building me my dollhouse, and sneaking me cotton candy at Razorback games when Daddy wasn’t looking.” I shake my head. “But then bam! Luca and all the shit from Eden slam into my head and knocks me on my ass.”

“Give yourself time.” Dad nods slowly, leaning back. “Those memories don’t cancel each other out.”

“I just wish I could stop thinking about any of it. Especially the good ones,” I admit, scrunching my nose. “They make me feel guilty for even thinking of a time when we were happy.”

“They make you human.”

I look down at my hands, letting his words settle in my chest. He’s right. And maybe that humanity is finally winning, because for the last week, the shadows in the corner of my mind have stayed just that—shadows.

Luca. Jack. Whoever he was is gone.

His emerald eyes, the scar he’d never talk about, and the smell of his roses have finally stopped hijacking my brain. Monroe said it’d take time for my nervous system to realize that the threat was dead, but lately, the air inside my own head feels clearer.

“The good part about all of this.” My eyes drift back toward the pool where Zeke is laughing while Lex tries to shove him underwater. “I think helping him has helped me heal a little faster.”

“Your brother?”

I nod. “I’ve spent so much time worrying about whether he’s eating enough, sleeping, hell if he’s even smiling…” A small laugh escapes me. “Monroe says I’ve basically adopted him.”

Dad chuckles.

“I mean, technically what he said,” I continue, “is that after weeks of surviving someone who took away all my choices, helping Zeke gives my brain something it can actually do.”

“It gives you back a purpose,” Dad says.

“I guess.”

“You couldn’t save yourself in Eden,” he says gently. “But now every day you get to help save your brother.”