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“Okay,” I whisper, still unsure about whatever he’s talking about.
He gives me a soft smile before leaning in to press a kiss to my forehead. I let my legs lead me from the bed. I’m sure I look like a mess, tangled hair, smeared makeup, wrinkled dress. Noah doesn’t say anything, he only reaches forward, wiping the smeared mascara from under my eyes before leading me out of the room.
He doesn’t speak again until we’re almost at the front door. With his hand on the knob, he turns back to face me. “Your parents are here.”
I freeze in my tracks, taking in the words, but before I have a chance to fully respond the door is opened and my parents come rushing in.
My mom is a whirlwind of frantic energy. She grabs my shoulders, running her hands over me as if she’s checking for damage. “Are you okay?” she asks. Her eyes are glossy, holding back tears.
My father is right behind her, he’s looking me over, watching for any signs that something is amiss. “Mikaela,” his voice shakes when he speaks my name. “Are you okay?”
They’re both staring at me with wide eyes waiting for a response, but my voice isn’t working. I can’t gather the words to say anything to them. I feel like a traitor, like I abandoned them for the other side. In some ways I did…
“She’s fine.” Noah’s voice sounds and my eyes find him standing behind us by the front door, arms across his chest.
My father whips around faster than I can realize, marching toward Noah with a finger pointed. “You little shit,” he growls.
Noah holds his hands up defensively. “She wants to be here, Judah. It’s her choice.”
Instantly all sets of eyes turn back to me. “Mikaela,” my mother says softly. “What’s going on?”
My eyes flick from my mom to my dad before landing on Noah. He gives me a slight nod, the okay signal to talk. But the words he wants me to say are going to hurt, that I know.
“I’m fine.” My voice is hoarse, sounding broken.
My father visibly winces and a single tear rolls down my mother's cheek. My stomach churns at the thought of how this is hurting them, ripping them apart.
They’ve been convinced it was Noah since that morning when I called them. When they woke up to both of their daughters missing from their beds.
She’s gone, Mom.
Those were the words I said that morning, when I rose out of my haze to find out my sister jumped off the cliff. The police had come and gone all while I was too fucked up to even move.
To even know my sister was there at all.
She was supposed to be at another party, I had dropped her off there. I watched her walk into that house and give me a wave before I drove away. Yet somehow she ended up miles away at the Bancroft estate and dead within hours.
I tried to run out to the cliff after Noah told me the news. I can still feel the way his arms latched around my waist, fingers gripping into my skin while I screamed and cried for her.
If he would have let me go I would have followed her over, something I’ve thought about every day for the last year.
Mom. Dad. Noah. I repeat their names as a mantra, the only thing that keeps me clinging to life when I’d much rather end it. If I can’t stay alive for myself, I’ll do it for them. Even Noah.
Pain sears through my chest, hitting me like a ton of bricks. I can barely breathe through it, but I grit my teeth and try to face my parents.
“I want to be here,” I whisper, dropping my gaze to avoid seeing their faces when they hear the words.
“What the fuck did you do to her?” My father shouts at Noah. His eyes are nearly black, dark with rage and he raises his fists as if he’s going to hit him.
“Nothing.” Noah snarls back, unleashing his own anger.
My mother spins around, widening her arms and blocking me from the men as if I’m too fragile to see this. Parents always treat their firstborns like delicate flowers, fragile and easy to break. I push her arm out of the way.
“You fucking did something to her, what did you do?” My father is screaming now, I can see little drops of saliva leave his mouth and land on Noah’s face.
My father’s not a big man, the only thing he has on Noah is age and that is only working to hurt him. His slim frame is the same height as Noah’s but his growl seems louder, harsher.
It must be the pain of losing Auden that fuels him now, ignites a fire. It’s funny that he walked through life like it was pointless, drinking away his sorrows when she was alive and now that she’s dead he has some sort of purpose.
