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I thrum my fingers on the top of my thighs. “Did Ayden seem sick this morning?”

Fiona shakes her head as she unzips her backpack. “No, he seemed fine.” She pulls out a thick textbook. “My parents seemed freaked out, though. My dad was acting like a weirdo the entire drive and gave us this huge lecture about being careful and keeping an eye out for anything weird today.”

“It probably has something to do with the fact that the police were at our house this morning.” Kale appears in the doorway with a slice of pizza in his hand.

I turn the volume of the stereo down. “How do you know the police were at your house?”

He shrugs, sinking down into a chair. “I was hanging out at one of my friend’s houses across the street, and his mom asked me about it.”

I bite down on my lip and pull out my phone to send Ayden a text.

Me: When r u going to b home?

When he doesn’t answer, an uneasy feeling gnaws in the pit of my stomach. I know he’s told me time and time again not to worry about him, but I can’t help it. I love him, and not knowing where he is drives me crazy.

I get lost in my thoughts as I flip through songs while everyone works on their homework. I’ve always had a rather overactive imagination, and it conjures up a thousand different horrible scenarios of what could be going on.

When my mother walks into the room and motions me to come over, I suddenly realize that maybe my imagination was right. Perhaps something terrible has happened.

She points at Fiona, Kale, and Everson, then puts her fingers to her lips, indicating for me to be quiet before leaving the room. I causally get up and wind around the sofa.

“Where are you going?” Fiona asks, glancing up from the textbook.

“To get a snack,” I reply, hoping I sound calm.

“Grab me something, too, would ya?”

I nod. “Sure.”

She smiles and returns to her homework while I hurry and sneak out of the room. When I get into the kitchen, my mother is sitting at the table with her phone clutched in her hand, and my dad and Uncle Ethan are hurrying for the back door.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

My dad motions for me to come with them. “We need to go to the hospital.”

I feel as though someone has punched me in the stomach and knocked the wind out of me. “What happened?”

Worry is written all over his face as he grabs the car keys off the counter. “There’s been an accident. I’ll explain on the way. We need to go.”

Bile burns at the back of my throat as I slip on my shoes and follow them out the door. We climb into my dad’s 1969 Chevelle, and he breaks almost every traffic law as he flies down the street and onto the freeway.

“Would someone please tell me what’s going on?” I finally say after ten very long minutes go by.

My dad glances at Ethan who looks as though he’s about to be sick.

“Go ahead and tell her.” He grabs his phone out of his pocket and sends a text. “She’s going to find out eventually.”

Sighing, my dad focuses on the road and begins telling me a horrible story about a letter and a meeting and basically a plan that consisted of Ayden risking his life.

By the time he’s finished, I almost ask him to pull over so I can throw up.

“But he’s all right?” I ask Ethan, sliding forward in the seat to look at him.

“I’m not sure. Lila . . . her text said . . .” He shakes his head. “I never should have let him do it.”

“Knowing Ayden, he would have done it without you,” I tell him. “I think he believes it’s his job to save his sister.”

“I know.” Ethan’s phone vibrates in his hand, and he glances down at the screen. When he sighs in relief, I know it has to be good news. “I just got an update from Lila. Ayden’s okay. He hurt his head and had to get stitches, but other than that, he’s going to be fine.”

I breathe freely for the first time as I lean back in the seat. I hadn’t realized how worried I was until now. Worried more than I ever have been.

Love, it’s like a drug

I can’t live without.

I thought I was stronger.

But love, it owns me now.

Without him, I feel so lost.

Without him, I don’t feel whole.

Love, love, love,

What have you done to me?

Chapter 18

Ayden

Despite Lila’s many protests, after I get the stitches put in my head, I talked to Detective Rannali who has been waiting in the emergency room with us. She watches him like a hawk from the corner of the room, ready to yell at him the moment he says something that pisses her off even more.

“Are you sure you didn’t get a positive ID on the woman?” He pulls the curtain shut to give us some privacy.

I shake my head. “All I know is that she was wearing a red raincoat and black rain boots. She had a voice like a heavy smoker.” I reach up to scratch my head then remember I can’t because of the stitches. “I know she was the woman who was at the house, though. The one who warned me about being there.”

“Can you recount what was said by her?” he asks, grabbing his pen and notebook from his pocket.

I replay everything I can remember her saying, and he writes it all down.

“I don’t get how you guys didn’t catch her, though,” I say after I’m finished. “She was right there with me in the trees.”

“We still have a team out searching the area,” he says. “But I have a theory that she might have had a boat nearby. We have some people out on the water, searching, and we did find a red raincoat tossed in the bushes near the shoreline.”

“You said he was going to be safe,” Lila interrupts, crossing her arms and staring him down. “And that nothing bad was going to happen, yet the woman got away, and my son’s in the hospital.”

“And I’m greatly sorry about that.” He clicks his pen and tucks it away. “But I also told you that I couldn’t predict everything that was going to happen, only what I hoped would happen.”

She shakes her head, enraged. “You lied.”

“Why do you think she said that thing about my real father?” I slide off the bed and plant my feet on the ground, steadying myself as the world starts to spin underneath me.

“Take it easy, Ayden.” Lila holds onto my arm. “The doctor said you need to move slowly for a little while.”

“I’m not sure,” the detective answers, stuffing his notepad back into his pocket. “Do you know who your real father is?”

“I thought I did.” I lean against the bed for support. “But my mom was the kind of woman who might have lied about stuff like that.”

He mulls over something, and I know what he’s thinking, because it’s probably the same thing I am. That my real father might have something to do with this. He might be part of the Soulless Mileas.

“I’m going to do a little searching into you,” he says, drawing the curtain back. “I’ll keep you updated, but in the meantime, I’m going to send a detective to keep an eye on Ayden.”

His words don’t soften Lila at all. In fact, her face reddens with anger.

“If this escalates into something worse . . .” She jabs a finger at him.

“I know. I know. You’ll cut off my balls.” He swings around her and heads for the doors that lead to the waiting room.

After he’s gone, Lila turns to me. “’How are you feeling?” She squints at my face to examine my eyes. “The doctor says we need to keep an eye out for a concussion.”

“I know. I was right here, remember?” I ask, starting for the door.

“I know. That was a test to see how your memory is.” She walks ahead of me and pushes the door open so I can go through.

“My memory’s fine.” But that’s not the truth.

I may be able to remember tonight, but I still can’t remember that time in the house. Part of me wonders now if the reason why I blocked it all out isn’t just beca

use of the trauma and horrible things that happened to me in that house. Maybe my mind is trying to protect me from the pain of who was behind it all.

Could it be my real father who chose to break me, his own flesh and blood?

As soon as I step foot into the waiting room, my worries momentarily vanish, and all my thoughts center on one thing or person, anyway.

“Ayden.” Lyric’s eyes light up when she sees me. She sprints across the room, pushing people out of her way to get to me. When she reaches me, she throws her arms around me and almost knocks me to the ground. “I was so worried . . . I don’t even . . .” She stops talking and holds me tightly.

“Careful, Lyric,” Lila says from beside us. “He might have a concussion.”

Lyric starts to pull back, but I place my hand on the small of her back and press her closer. “She’s fine,” I tell Lila.

I won’t let her go.

Not until she knows.

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