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“Kaleb,” I hear Noah bark.
Mirai rounds the car, hopping into the driver’s side and putting the car in reverse.
“Tiernan!” Jake bellows, and I see him pounding down the steps out of the corner of my eye.
“No!” Noah yells.
Jake slams his hand on the hood of the car, staring at us through the windshield. “Stop!”
“Just go,” I tell her, turning my head away so Kaleb can’t see the tears. “Please…. please just go.”
She locks the doors, slams on the gas, and I bury my face in my hands until we’re deep, down the dark highway, away from the house, and I can’t see his face again.
Tiernan
I move my spoon through the soup, listening to the quiet. God, this house is like a tomb. I always knew that, but damn.
Right now, the boys would be watching TV, Noah laughing loudly while Jake yelled at him from the kitchen about his damn dishes.
There would be music.
Joking and playing.
Life.
There would be Kaleb.
My chin trembles. It’s been twenty-two hours since I’ve seen him.
Everything feels foreign now. I look around my parents’ white kitchen, pristine marble counter tops, and chrome appliances. This isn’t my home.
Mirai pushes a leather binder across the island to me. I glance at it.
“They left you everything, of course,” she says. “This is for your records.”
My parents’ will stares back at me, and I look away, back to my soup.
God, I don’t care. My heart has been ripped out, and it’s still laying in their driveway in Chapel Peak.
I blink away the tears. I need to stop trying to understand how he could let me go. It’s nothing I’m not used to.
At least my parents left me the money. At least I was a mention in the will. Proof that they cared enough to make sure I’d be okay.
I was always sure of a life of comfort with them, if nothing else. I’m so rich, I’ll never have to lift a finger in the world or even leave this house if I don’t want to.
Six months ago, I might’ve been grateful for that.
“Don’t stay here,” she begs. “Stay with me. Or rent an apartment? You need people around you.”
I sit up, pushing the bowl away from me. “You know me by now,” I tell her. “I may have the personality of a brick, but…I don’t need anyone.”
I’m kidding. I need the candy-making people and… the Netflix people.
“It’s not a weakness to need anyone,” Mirai says, watching me. “Except those pricks. If I knew what they were going to do, I wouldn’t have let you get on that plane. Twice.”
“Stop.” I shake my head at her, tired all of a sudden. “That’s not what happened, and I’m not a child. I haven’t been one for a long time.”
She looks away, her lips tight, but she stays quiet.
