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“Tell me about her,” she says, her voice nearly a whisper.

It takes me a long moment to realize what she’s asking. The memories of Kaila come flooding in at the thought of her name. And although some of those memories are devastating and painful, I can’t help but want to tell Lydia about her. If I’m being honest, I’ve wanted to for some time.

“She’s my sister,” I say, already wrapped up in her memory.

Lydia momentarily stills, shaking her head at my words. I berate myself for allowing her to think I had a girlfriend all this time. At first, it was a way to torment her. Now I just feel like an asshole.

“She was the better Thorne sibling, so full of life and love. She was smart, so fucking smart,” I say, pausing. “Her smile lit up an entire room. She was the light, she was always the light.”

I remain silent for several long seconds as I recall all the wonderful things about Kaila. Then all at once, that one memory hits me—the one that changed everything.

“She was everything, and I killed her,” I whisper.

The way I arrange the words won’t change the truth of them, so why bother with semantics? Lydia stiffens against me but offers me the silence to consider my next words.

“I was driving too fast. It was raining,” I say, pausing as the memories race to the forefront of my mind, seeking to destroy me all over again. Lydia squeezes my arm gently, lifting one of my hands to place a soft kiss against the back of it.

“We were arguing about something so fucking stupid and pointless. I was angry. I yelled so fucking loud. I didn’t see it coming. I swerved to miss a large pothole and then hydroplaned off the road.”

My voice cracks. I squeeze Lydia’s thigh tightly as I recall the very next moment like it’s happening right before my eyes.

“She was gone the second we hit that tree. I looked over at her, and she was fucking gone. Just like that.” I pause. “Just like that, I took away my sister’s entire future.”

Emotions I’ve suppressed for so long come crashing back at full force. Lydia spins around to face me, climbing into my lap and cupping my cheeks in her palms.

“Hey, look at me,” she whispers, a silent tear streaming down her cheek. “Look at me, Callum.”

I drag my gaze up to hers, not allowing the tears burning behind my eyes to break through. I don’t deserve to cry over this. I don’t fucking deserve to feel sorry for myself. I’m a goddamn monster. My sister lost everything because of me. She’s fucking dead because of me.

“It’s okay to break for her. It’s okay to feel like your world ended the day she left it.” She sniffles, leaning forward until her forehead rests against my own. “It’s okay, Callum. Let it in. Grieve for her. Grieve for yourself.”

Lydia’s words are my undoing, and I succumb to the grief that has been begging for release for the last seventeen years of my life. I allow the tears to fall and then consume me entirely. And for once, I allow myself to feel every single emotion.

“That’s it,” she whispers, holding my head to her chest. “Let it out.”

I do. I let it all fucking out.

30

Lydia

Grief is a peculiar thing.

Grief destroys, but it’s also the foundation for regrowth. It’s a necessary evil that, if neglected, will destroy a person from the inside out.

I now understand the ironclad fortress that Callum Thorne has built up around him from day one. He’s been carrying around the grief of losing Kaila since the day of the accident. Seventeen long years of self-blame and not allowing for a proper grief response. Seventeen long years of hating himself for the accident that took his sister from this world.

His sister.

I am such a fool to have thought he had a girlfriend. My jealousy feels awful now, knowing that it was his sister. The thought of it is so heartbreaking, and I can’t help but feel for the boy who lost his sibling all those years ago. I can’t imagine carrying around a loss like that for so long.

I sat with Callum while he finally allowed himself to heal. I sat in the bath, holding him, until the water ran cold, and we were both trembling. He needed to grieve for Kaila. He needed to release everything he’s been holding hostage all these years. I only hope that he can forgive himself for it, too. If anything, I know that it will take time.

The sounds of gunfire bring me back to the present. Callum and I are on my sofa watching John Wick, curled up together under a throw. I’m a sucker for Keanu Reeves, and apparently, Mr. Big and Broody is a sucker for an action film. I run my fingers over his left hand, where his cast was. We sort of forgot about it when we got in the shower, and he had to remove it once it got wet. He swears it’s healed enough to ditch it and that he doesn’t feel the pain anymore. I decided that after the eventful day we’ve had, I wasn’t going to push the issue. My gaze flicks down to Nyx, who sits curled between our legs. Callum hardly notices her there, and it warms my heart.

My attention drifts back to the movie as a figure rises into the glow, cutting off my view. The energy in the room shifts with it as the air grows cooler, thicker, and filled with unease. I straighten slowly, pushing to a seated position as I stare ahead into the lifeless eyes of my mother.

“Lydia?” Callum asks, turning his attention directly to me and then tracking my gaze to the television. “What’s wrong?”