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“I don’t want you to be alone anymore,” she says quietly. “I’m so tired of you being alone.”
I close my eyes and breathe in her words.
“I don’t mind it.”
“You used to,” she says. “You hated being by yourself. You were always surrounded by people. That’s the problem. That place changed you.”
I know she’s studying my scars in the dim light from the hall. Her fingertips slide in deliberate strokes like she’s tracing each one. I’ve only seen them once, but you don’t have to see something to know it’s there. I feel them every second of every day.
“Are these scars why you like to be alone now?”
A cold sweat breaks over my body.
“Please, tell me,” she says, spreading her hands. Somehow I know she’s covering my imperfections with her palms. But no one’s hands are big enough to hide my damage.
Clenching my eyes shut, I try to control my breathing as the memories rush back. I only told the story twice—to the guard who found me and the nurse in the infirmary. Both warned me to never tell it again if I had any hope of surviving that place.
“Partly,” I say quietly.
Her touch stills on my back, and I know she’s surprised I’m speaking. Frankly, I am too.
“They… I spent over a month in solitary after the attack.”
“They punishedyoufor this?”
“It wasn’t a punishment,” I say on an exhale. “It’s considered protective custody. One of many reasons no one talks.”
“Is that why you never told anyone the rest?” I hear the tremor in her voice.
“Partly,” I repeat, barely audible.
My back warms when a body tucks against me, and soon her arm loops around my side to draw me close. I take her hand and kiss her fingers before clutching it tightly in mine.
“Promise me you’ll tell someone one day,” she murmurs against my skin.
Her hot breath warms my shoulder in a gentle kiss.
“Tristan?”
I clench my eyes shut, trying to focus on her touch to ease the rising panic.
“It doesn’t have to be me. Just, someone. Please, promise me.”
“I don’t know if I can,” I whisper. “I don’t know anything anymore, Iz.”
Her hold tightens, and I let myself get lost in the soft cadence of her breathing.
After a long silence, I think she’s asleep until she shifts to cuddle even closer.
“Well,Iknow something,” she says. “It’s another thing you’re not.”
“Yeah? What’s that?” I ask, cracking a smile.
“Alone.”
Dad and Kim wanted to come, but I said no. One, while our recent breakthrough meant a lot, it’s going to take more than a hug and some tears to undo decades of damage. Two, it’s weird enough that we’re storming the castle of a rich stranger, let alone dragging my father and sister with us. This is more about Pierce than the accident anyway, so Isabel was the only one who could convince me she needed to go. As we pull up to the gate of Kyle Alexander’s estate in The Hills, my heart slams against my ribs.
“What are we doing?” I mumble, staring at the ornate monstrosity designed to keep people like meout.
