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The whisper of her sigh against the phone makes me ache to hold her close, the way I used to when we were little.
“I love him,” she says. “Why would I love him if I wasn’t supposed to?”
“Oh, baby sister. We all want things we shouldn’t have. Even you. Just because you love him doesn’t mean you should. Love is a choice, like anything else.”
“I don’t know what to do.”
“Listen to me. If you do whatever course you’re set on right now, you . . . Just don’t do it. Promise me you won’t do it. Don’t hurt Sadie.”
“I’m broken. I don’t know anything anymore. I can’t feel it like I used to.”
“Let me feel it for you, then. Let me make this choice.”
She’s quiet, and I strain against the phone, listening to her breathe, counting on each breath, needing to hear them.
“I’ll figure it out,” she says, and now she sounds distracted and far away. “I always do.”
“Not this time. Please, Fia.”
“Don’t worry about me. It’s my job to take care of you, remember? Stay out of this. Stay safe. That’s all I want.”
“I’m coming—”
“No. No. You stay far away. Stay far away where you’re safe. I’ll be fine. I’m always fine.”
“Fia—”
“I love you, Annie. Go live. I won’t call again.”
The line goes dead.
“No no no no no,” I moan, letting my head drop. “No.”
And then—oh please not another one I can’t see this again—light.
I watch my sister die.
In the vision, the beautiful traitor sits on a leather couch, leaning back with his legs crossed.
Next to him is Sadie. Dark circles under her eyes making her look older than sixteen.
The only door opens and two people enter the room. This is hell, watching this happen over and over again, not being able to change it. There is James. There is Phillip Keane.
And then there’s Fia, my Fia, who looks from Sadie to Phillip Keane and back again, slides along the wall next to the door, shoves her fist into her mouth as though suppressing a scream. James and Rafael both look at her at the same time, expectant and demanding.
She giggles, a high, nervous sound, and she looks less than human, somehow.
There’s a loud noise from the hall, a shout, and then something slams against the wall. The door flies open again and a man, ferocity in his blunt, young face, bursts into the room, fighting with another man in a suit. They fall to the ground, a tangle of vicious pounding limbs.
And then
And then
And then
I walk into the room, sightless eyes wide with terror, a gun that looks too heavy clutched in my wildly shaking hands.
Phillip Keane raises an eyebrow as though seeing someone he thought was dead happens every day. Fia’s shoulders collapse and I can see the life draining from her even though nothing has happened yet.
