69. Rebuilding The Broken

69. Rebuilding The Broken

Four Months Later

Skylenna

Once we returned to theRed Oaks, we slept for three days.

Medical professionals checked on us frequently, patching up DaiSzek, and ensuring we were hydrated and fed. Ruth spent time in the infirmary, undergoing reconstructive surgery and getting the medication she needed. Warrose didn’t leave that hospital room.

Marilynn and Niles moved into Aurick’s estate. She said that’s what he would have wanted for his son. We didn’t question her on how she knew the gender so early.

Once we were recovered from the war, physically anyway, we began building a house that surrounded the giant Red Oak tree closest to the lagoon. The same one Kane and I would climb as children. The one that Kane made the beacons from. Even though he still couldn’t remember our special life together, he agreed to start building anyway. Chekiss helped after I insisted he live with us.

I was too weak and detached from the void to return it all in one fell swoop. My nerves were shot. My emotions numb and broken. But Dessin and Kane were patient and understanding. Although we never touched. Never kissed. When we fell asleep at night under the stars, he would turn away from me. I thought I escaped hell when I left the prison.

I was wrong.

Sleeping so close to my soulmate, yet feeling so cold and unwanted had left a gaping hole in my heart. I tried every night to climb into the void, take him to Ambrose Oasis, and show him everything I cherished so deeply.

I fucking tried.

Most nights I’d wake sobbing hysterically. And Kane would come to the front, claiming he hated seeing me cry. The feeling confused him, although I know the truth. It’s the same words Kane has used since we were children. He always said his heart would wilt with my tears. It was the one thing he hated most in the world.

There were times when we’d eat around a fire in silence, and Kane would look up at me, and for a minuscule moment, he’d recognize me. There was a flash, a glimmer, where he would part his lips and straighten his back and say, “I thought I remembered something.”

But it would fade like the ocean pulling its water away from the shore.

And some mornings, Dessin would ask me to share a memory. I’d tell him about the time I first hugged him in the abandoned Demechnef building, or the time he pulled me out of the Isolation Tank. He was always so quiet after I finished. He’d stare blankly into the sunrise, unresponsive and deep within the walls of his own thoughts, then he’d go about building our home without another word about it.

That always broke my heart.

The dismissiveness of my most treasured recollections.

I’d walk out to the lagoon and cry into my hands. Sometimes, DaiSzek would join me, leaning against me so I could muffle my cries into his fur.

Every other day, I’d visit Ruth in the infirmary. I’d bring her wine and treats, and we’d kick Warrose out to hang out while we gossiped. We’d cry about traumatic memories from the prison, about the aftermath of our realities. I’d do my best to pull her out of her depression even though I was wrestling deeply with my own. Most of the time Marilynn would join us, and Niles would go have a guy’s day, because, in his words, he was one of the boys now!

And now, after four months, with the help of many colony members, over many long days of cutting wood and building a layout based on an old blueprint my dad made long agowe have a house!

It’s a massive cottage with a thatch roof, tall oak pillars, a stone base, and a front porch that stretches over the cliff. The perfect spot to drink our morning coffee and watch the sunrise over the lagoon. It’s heaven, and my dad knew it.

~

“Skylenna.”

My mind wakes gradually, but my eyes remain closed. I shift under the covers, rolling away from the noise.

“Someone is at the door.”

I feel Dessin climb out of his side of the king-size feather bed. The front door creaks open, and muffled voices swim back to my ears along with the midnight breeze. At the distinction of a woman’s voice, I sit up in bed, wiping my face and blinking away the blurry sheen of sleep.

What time is it?

Something white nudges the bedroom door open, trotting inside, then leaping to jump on my bed to greet me.

I snicker. “Were you sent in to wake me, Kira?!”

The white wolf queen steps into the doorway, illuminated by the glowing moonlight shining through the window. “I’m sorry to disturb ya slumber, dashna.”

“Is everything okay?” I make a feeble attempt at combing through the ruffled waves of my bed hair.

Asena sighs, glancing at the wolf snuggled between my legs.

“I have someone who wants to see ya, dashna. Someone who has been under my care for many years now.”

My sleepy gaze slides through the moonlit doorway to Dessin, shirtless, arms crossed, and looking just as curious as I feel.

“Who?”

She sits on the corner of my bed and reaches for my hand. “Do ya trust me?”

I nod.

“Then I think ya should see for ya-self.”

~

It’s three in the morningas we follow Asena through the Stormsage Keep.

The hallways are flooded with warmth from the torches and fireplaces. The air smells like roasting chestnuts and hot apple cider. It reminds me of the night we spent here. That dinner, I learned the city had a stronger hold on my eating habits than I realized. Kane was gentle, kind, and patient as I worked through it. He held me close as we fell asleep.

This all makes me tilt my head in his direction, walking slightly ahead of me with the glow of the aged sconces shimmering across the side of his face. His eyes are zoned out, mouth parted, body going through the motions of following Asena through the keep.

“Kane?” I ask.

It takes him a little longer to respond. He reacquaints himself with this location, then peers down at me.

“Hmm?”

I wonder if he switched because this place is a trigger for him.

“Hi,” I say, then lean closer to him. “We’re in the Stormsage Keep. Asena is bringing us to meet someone who has been asking for me.”

Kane lifts his chocolate-brown eyes to Asena’s back, covered in furs and cloaks. He gives me a thankful smile but doesn’t say anything. His strides even out. He faces forward to continue walking in silence.

My stomach turns into a bitter puddle of acid.

I miss talking to you.

I miss the way you’d reach for my hand.

I miss you so much, Kane.

“We stayed here once after running away together,” I blurt out in a low whisper.

There isn’t a hitch in his pace as he cocks his head in my direction, glancing at me with a crease in his brow.

“I had a breakdown in the dining hall because I was trying to ration what I was allowed to eat. My mind was still stuck in the ways of the lady-doll regimen. You were the one that helped me realize what a problem it had become when you encouraged me to eat until I was full.”

I twist my hands together, wringing them out like a wet towel. Does he care? Could he possibly remember flashes of this? Does he feel what I’m feeling when I repeat the memory?

Kane’s expression is usually so readable. So easy to dissect the emotions morphing his features. But right now…he’s a stranger to me.

“And now? Is eating still a problem?” he asks, but it sounds like he’s trying to make conversation to be polite.

I bow my eyes and frown.

“No. Not anymore.”

“I’m glad.”

Me, too. But that wasn’t the point. I wanted you to feel something. Look at me the way you used to!

Asena stops in front of the door at the far north end of the keep. She lifts her chin to me with a defiant look of strength. “Do not be mad at me, dashna. I was not sure if ya would come. But I have come to know her after much time and do not think ya will have another chance.”

My blood runs cold. “What did you do?”

Who is her?

Kane stiffens at my side, taking a protective stance toward me.

Asena pushes down on the dulled silver handle, using her shoulder to shove the door open. It scrapes against the floor as she opens it wide to reveal a bedroom. I find myself retreating inward as I glance around hesitantly. There’s a large cherry oak bed with ten-foot posts and a sheer canopy. It’s covered in white furs and wooden accents. Dim with the light of two fireplaces going.

It doesn’t exactly smell great in here…

Like a neglected infirmary. Saline and bodily fluids. Ash. Dust. Something similar to the way our cage smelled after Ruth underwent surgery. Death warmed up.

Asena observes me with cautious eyes. Waiting. Bracing for impact. My eyes then go in a frantic search of the giant bed, skimming over the ruffled sheets, the hand hanging off the side, the wolf resting its head on a lump in the center. I take a guarded step forward, tilting in to get a better look.

“Do ya know why I’ve called ya dashna?” Asena’s low voice greases the air. “It means daughter.”

There’s only one image in that bed that makes me back away.

I don’t need to even see the face that’s turned to the side in silent slumber. All it takes is the mess of golden waves that look like the hair of a mermaid. They’re splayed out across the white pillow, a pool of honey around her head.

It snaps my neck upright. My breath hitches in my throat. Goose bumps pebble over my arms and legs. The air drops twenty degrees, yet my forehead and palms go damp with perspiration. I’m burning up, shivering, swallowing down a heavy lump in my throat.

“Asena…”

“She wanted to see you before…”

My feet blunder back again, making my movements jerky and unpredictable.

“I remember you. You’re the little monster I made a few shiny coins off of.”

That moment in the cemetery comes screaming back to me with pitchforks and rebellions gathering in my head. Her eyes were spiteful and without any love for her children. And for the first time, the void purrs in anger.

“What is she doing here?” I ask through my clenched teeth.

I know everything I learned from my trips into the past should make me less inclined to kill this woman. I know. She suffered from the Mind Phantoms the same as my father, the same as Charles Offborth. I remember it well.

But the last time I really saw her in person was the day she looked at Scarlett like a poisoned insect.

“She’s sick, dashna.”

I see the memory curdle in front of me, showing me the ugliness of its insides.

“Scarlett deserved everything that happened to her. She’s nothing to me. No daughter of mine.”

Sick? I dart my eyes back into that large, comfy bed. And this time, I focus a little harder on her face. It’s oily, pale, and bony. Her breaths are fast and shallow, like tiny, useless pants.

“What’s wrong with her?”

Kane moves to place a hand on my back in a small show of support.

“That chemical ya government injects to control ya people. It’s like a slow-releasing poison if abused for too long.” Asena looks back at the sickly woman huffing and puffing in her sleep. “I’m so sorry I lied to ya, dashna. But her story should be heard by ya before she passes on. Please.”

Passes on? She’s dying?

I don’t know what to think. How to feel about seeing her again. It’s a firestorm of thoughts and memories warring against my barriers. The void flickers on like a lightbulb I thought had burned out.

I see the conversation my parents had after we were born. I see how our mother’s face was beet red, gushing tears, and the desperation on her face to keep us.

“I can protect my babies. I will protect Skylenna and Scarlett.”

She fought so hard to ignore the prophecy Judas gave them. To defy the plan Sophia was making. All because she wanted to raise us right. She wanted to give us the home and parents we deserved.

“I can’t leave her!”she wails into the void. “I can’t separate my babies!”

“We can go if you want,” Kane says in my ear.

I give him a side-long glance. He looks concerned and a little unsure about this situation. But not in the way he would if he remembered all that has happened to me as a child. To Scarlett. That might be what hurts more than this impossible decision I’m facing.

The fact that Kane can’t understand how devastating this is for me.

“I’ll see her,” I finally announce.

Asena’s body sags in relief.

“Would you like me to wait outside?” Kane asks.

Even though he doesn’t know why this is one of the heaviest moments of my life…I need him right now. God, I need him more than anyone alive. If he had all of his memories, he would have never even thought to ask that question. I shake my head, and he follows me in.

It takes me several seconds to sit down on the soft fur chair next to her bed. But I can’t help but stare down at her, studying how much she looks like me. Older. Sadder. A few scars on her clammy face.

I take a shaky breath in while I sit down.

The creak of my chair has her cat-shaped eyes opening slowly, like she’s trying so very hard to pull herself out of a drug haze, a feverish coma. The whites of her eyes are a dark shade of yellow, covered in so many burst blood vessels.

Those wrinkled eyelids stretch back in drowsy surprise at the sight of my face. Her gasp rattles in her chest from phlegm and unwanted fluids gurgling in her lungs. I hold my wince as her breaths turn to small wheezes.

“Scarlett,” she croaks with a dry mouth.

It’s like someone slams their fist straight through my chest. I shake my head slowly.

Her face pinches together in shame as she looks me over with more lucidity parting the clouds of confusion in her eyes.

“Baby Skylenna,” she rasps.

“Hello, Violet.”

My mother’s eyes pinch close, squeezing tears out of the corners. She blows out a stuttering breath and nods, like even though she knew this day would come, nothing could have prepared her for the way her heart would react.

“Do you remember the last time I saw you?” I ask her with a pang of pettiness and the urge to rub salt in the wound.

“Yes,” she whispers.

“And do you know what happened when we walked back home?”

Violet looks like she might die right here, right now, simply from a broken heart.

“I know how it ended.” She bites down on her chapped lips.

“Do you, though?” My best efforts fail to calm the simmering hate in my stomach. “How about the times before the end? When she’d bang her head against the drywall in that closet in your old room? Or when she’d spend hours in the bathtub scrubbing her skin raw ‘to get them off of her?’”

Tears are running down both of our faces now. But mine are brewed in animosity, and hers are infused with guilt. However, witnessing her cry sends a nostalgic shiver racing through my nervous system. She cries the same way as Scarlett. The same scrunched nose. That soft frown that looks more like a pouting child. The splotchy, rosy pink that spreads from the tip of her nose down to her neck.

It brings me back, softens my heart, pacifies the boil in my gut.

“I t-tried to put her pieces back together,” I choke out, holding the leash of my sobs tightly. “I wanted to be enough for her. I-I wanted to be enough for her to live!”

“That is not on you, my sweet girl. Her fate is a tragedy I must live with. I should have fought Vlademur harder. I should have taken my own life rather than be a pawn on his board.” She reaches her frail hands out to me, clenching my fingers so hard, her knuckles turn white. “You both deserved a stronger mother. I am so sorry, Skylenna.”

I would be lying if I said there isn’t a small part of me that wished she was as strong as Niles’s father. But the outcome would have been the same, wouldn’t it? Niles was still traumatized by Demechnef, whether Charles participated or not. It would have happened regardless.

“If you’ve been sick from the Mind Phantoms, why have you waited so long to reach me?” I ask, using the sleeve on my arm to wipe my nose.

“I didn’t want to distract you when the prophecy said there was a war coming. One that you’d win. And…I didn’t have the words. What could I possibly say? There are no apologies in the world that could redeem me for what I did to my child. Drugs or no drugs. I was her mama. I was her mama!”

Violet breaks out into a coughing fit, wet and filled with mucus. Kane puts his hand on her back, helping her sit up to get it out of her lungs. Though the fluids seem endless, eventually she lies back down from exhaustion.

“There was one thing I did want to tell you, though. One thing I can die in peace knowing that I did for my family and…Kane’s family, a great justice.”

At this, Kane and I lean in.

“In my days of being conditioned and injected by Demechnef, Vlademur took a liking to me. He kept me as a companion. Had me around for years.” Her emerald eyes glaze over as she dives into these memories. “I gained his trust so I could do what needed to be done.”

“What did you do?” Kane can’t help but ask.

“He was quite meticulous about things. He read the same Bible. Slept on the same pillow. Clutched the same string of rosary.” Her eyes dart back and forth between the two of us. “So, I laced them all with a low dose of poison. Aurick’s father did not die a slow and agonizing death from natural causes. He suffered slowly, by my hand, so I could have a front row seat to watch.”

I let go of her hand to press it over my mouth. Something like pride and gratitude enter my soul, like seeing an old friend again when they come home from war. Relief. Satisfaction.

Vlademur wasn’t terminally ill because that’s what fate had in store for him.

My mother, Violet, tortured him. She gave us the justice we all deserved from being under his thumb, a victim of his malicious ideas and experiments.

Violet Ambrose dominated the original puppeteer.

Violet Ambrose was the real master of the game.

Kane gulps loudly, replacing the place where my hand once was with his own, gently gripping her knuckles. “Thank you. Not just from me, but from my family. Thank you, Mrs. Ambrose.”

“No, Kane,” she coughs, slipping her other hand over his. “Thank you. You protected my girls your whole life. You loved them. You cared for them. You gave my little Skylenna the childhood she deserved. Your mama would be so proud of the man you have become.”

Tears drip from Kane’s bottom lashes directly onto Violet’s fur blankets. He doesn’t try to hide the effect her words have on him. No, because that’s not Kane. Kane is gentle, warm, and compassionate beyond comparison.

“I-I don’t remember doing any of the things you speak of,” he stammers, then moves his eyes across the room to me. “But I’d like to. More than anything. I want to remember so badly.”

He may never understand how much hope he’s just given me. I want to reach into my chest, rip out my own heart, and pass it over to him. Here. Take it. I’ll give you whatever you want for the rest of our lives. I’ll dive into the void, and I won’t come back until I have your memories.

“Take good care of each other,” my mother says, scratchy and breathless. “There are so many couples in the world that will never have what you two share. They’ll never get to grow old together.”

Kane looks down in thought.

I wish he could remember how much he has already taken care of me. It’s my turn to look after him. To cherish. To provide. To protect.

“I don’t want to put any pressure on you two, but I had Asena fetch this from Jack’s house.” Violet reaches into her nightstand, plucking something from the top drawer. “Jack wrote letters to me on the rare occasion. He said that Kane asked for his blessing and permission to marry Skylenna…at the age of seven.”

Kane and I both release a surprised chuckle.

“And then again when Kane was nine. And again, at eleven. And then when he was nineteen.”

My quiet laughter is replaced with more tears.

Violet smiles to herself. “Jack’s words in his last letter were ‘I didn’t tell him… but he had my blessing that first moment he asked for her hand when he was seven. He wore his nicest clothes, slicked back his hair, and brought me a bouquet of wildflowers he picked in my backyard.’” She laughs, shaking her head. “These are our wedding rings. And per Sophia’s request, I had her diamond added.”

Violet holds a necklace with her thumb and index finger. It holds a husband’s gold wedding band and a wife’s wedding ring with a pear-cut diamond.

I silently melt in my seat.

It’s perfect.

It’s two symbols that hold so much history.

So much meaning.

Kane lets her lower the chain and rings in the palm of his big hand. He does his best not to react to this beautiful gift. I’m not sure he even knows how to respond.

I, on the other hand, focus on the ill woman in bed staring at us weakly, yet with so much love in her eyes. I unleash a strangled sob, throwing my arms and half my body over her.

“Thank you, Mom.”

Violet gasps before she weeps with me, arms trembling as she circles them around me, softly patting the back of my hand.

“I love you, Skylenna,” she cries.

“I love you too, Mama!”

After several minutes of crying, of apologies, of sweet words, we leave her room to let her rest. We walk back to our house in silence, basking in the sunrise that edges through the leaves. Kane holds on to those rings in the palm of his hand like his life depends on it.

And as I come to the front door of our house, I pause before entering. The trails of my tears are dry on my cheeks, but I can feel a new supply preparing to burst free.

“Skylenna?” Kane raises an eyebrow from inside the house.

It’s the chill of déjà vu again. That tug of nostalgia as I strip my clothes off in front of him, tossing them onto the wooden panels of the front porch.

“How good of a swimmer are you?” I ask, reliving that night Dessin jumped in the water, making me think he broke his neck and drowned.

Before Kane can answer, I spin on my heels, taking five long strides until I’m springing into the air, plummeting to the flat, shiny surface of the lagoon.

I wait underwater with my eyes open, beaming with excitement as he breaks through the surface hands first in a graceful swan dive. And I don’t give him any time to look around for me. I snag his hand and pull him in the direction of the waterfall.

This is where it should happen. This is how he would want it to happen.

Kane doesn’t fight the pull of my hand against his, drawing him under the beating downpour, into that sacred nook of ours where the world stops and time bends to us.

We bob to gasp for air against the light mist spraying us and the shiny limestone wall covered in moss.

“What the hell?” he gasps, wiping the water from his eyes.

The urge to cry puts me in a headlock, clawing at my insides. I swallow that lump, though I can’t control the watering of my eyes.

“Kane, I’m sorry for the way I’m about to do this.” Tears, tears, tears. “I wish I had the patience to give each moment back gradually. But…”

“What?” He swims closer.

“But I really need you right now.” My voice cracks, and I shudder past it. “I’m so alone, and I need you. You’re my best friend. My soul mate. And I can’t live another day in a world where you don’t call me honey or Skylittle. Where you don’t hold me at night, remind me of funny childhood memories or my embarrassing moments. Where the man who’s supposed to know me better than anyone…doesn’t know me at all.”

Kane’s chocolate-brown eyes line with tears. He nods, swimming so close to me that only a small trickle of water can pass between our stomachs.

“Can I kiss you?” I ask so pathetically, it pains my own ears.

“Of course you can,” he breathes.

I use my hands to slide around his wet neck, pulling myself up closer to his towering height. And it’s as though his lips act on muscle memory. Because they move the way they did when he was in love with me. I open my mouth to him, whimpering as he slides his tongue past my lips, tasting me gradually.

“I love you, Kane Valdawell.” I kiss him over and over. “I’ll say yes to you giving me that wedding ring when you remember again.”

And with that, I use the void and Ambrose Oasis as a shelter for him to experience each memory like it’s the first time. One by one, I let him swim among every conversation we had as children, every fight, every scraped knee, every time he pulled me from that basement.

Through each precious memory he collects, I kiss him deeper, feeling his hands explore my body with far more interest and excitement than before.

Dessin switches to the front so that he can experience the asylum again. Only the times he shared with me. For me. About me. I flood his consciousness with my love, with every feeling I had about him when we first met. He goes back to the time he held my hair back after Meridei and Belinda poisoned me. He sees how I threw my body over his while they tortured him. He remembers threatening Meridei as I was whipped. He relives the night he made love to me in his bed.

I drain myself giving everything to him.

And as he lifts my nightgown in the water, I don’t object but beg and plead against his lips to take me the way he used to. Kane lowers his breeches, nudging the head of his cock at my entrance. And it’s beautiful, so fucking beautiful because we’re both crying tears of relief. With each second he spends in the void, in Ambrose Oasis, he kisses me deeper.

“Skylittle,” he cries against my lips. “I love you, honey.”

With a jolting thrust of his hips, he pushes his full length inside of me, pumping the very breath from my lungs with the sudden impact.

“I’m so sorry I left you all alone,” he pants against my lips, wet with tears and the taste of his mouth. “I’m here now, honey. I’ve got you.”

“Tell me you remember me, Kane!”

He thrusts harder, forcing waves to crash over my shoulders, piercing me with his love and his kisses that make me go limp and boneless in his arms.

“I remember you.” He slams to the hilt. “I remember you sitting in my lap in that treehouse, running your hands through my hair. I remember our first kiss under this waterfall.”

I moan as ecstasy permanently buries itself in the contours of my soul. He remembers me. He remembers it all.

“I asked your father for permission to marry you every chance I got. I want you to take my name. My hand. I want you to have my babies.”

“Yes,” I groan, rolling my head back. “Do you want to get me pregnant, Kane?”

He looks up at me through heavy lids and glazed eyes. “Yes. God, yes. Let me fill you with my cum.”

I ride against him, feeling the coil wind up tight inside me, ready to snap like a rubber band. He fucks me faster, pounding me into the limestone wall vigorously, like he’s making up for lost time. And I can feel his cock twitch, pulse, and swell inside of me as he gets ready to release. With a muffled growl, he bites down on my shoulder, marking me, and the sharp sting sends me spiraling with tiny explosions in my lower belly. I come with him, losing my breath as I feel him gush into me.

And once we’re done, Kane carries me back up to the house, to which Chekiss excuses himself to visit Niles, catching the hint. Kane dries me off, lays me in bed, and buries himself inside me again. This goes on for hours. He makes me laugh as he explains that he’s trying to be thorough, coming in me as many times as it takes to put a baby there. After a while, and after he makes me breakfast, we fall back asleep in each other’s arms. I dream of Ambrose Oasis, of the treehouse, of running through the forest with Dessin.

The sunset blasts amber light through the window, gleaming through the Red Oak leaves outside. I stir awake with a nudging of the void grating against my mind, my happy thoughts.

Ignoring it, I curl against Kane’s chest, cherishing the rhythm of his heavy breath. Feeling eternal love and the yearning to see his eyes open. I kiss up the center of his sternum, his throat, his hard jawline.

“We slept all day,” I purr against his lips. “Let’s make dinner, then go back to sleep.”

He smells so good. The spicy cedar and forest. I nuzzle my nose against the prickly facial hair below his cheekbones. I missed touching him. Missed getting to express how much I love him. How long has it been since they fucked up his head? I exhale, kissing his plush lips again.

Though, he doesn’t react. Doesn’t show any sign of rousing awake.

“Kane?” I bite at his neck playfully, then tickle his ribs because I know how that always gets him to snicker.

Not even a smile.

I press harder.

Nothing.

“Kane?!”

“I’ll never forgive myself for this part.”

The void projects a tall, familiar figure in the doorway. I jump to sit up straight, protecting Kane’s sleeping body with my arms over him.

“Who’s there?”

Kaspias Valdawell moves toward me, wearing an expression that makes my stomach shrivel up in fear.

“They told me to do it, Skylenna,” he says like it’s an apology.

“Do what?!”

My heartbeat rattles in my throat. It swells against my lungs, causing me to huff hysterically.

“Kane…my brother…he isn’t going to wake up.”

I stop breathing.

“I gave him an injection before we started that altered round of Mind Phantoms.”

“SPEAK. FASTER.”

“This injection was a Mazonist fail-safe. An untested experiment to ensure that you two would never be together again… It—” he exhales, shaking his head—“it sends him into a coma the day you two become intimate again.”

My blood turns to acid as every atom in my body grows ice cold. I glare at him, then look down to Kane’s sleeping body. No. NO!

“How do I fix it?!”

“I’m so sorry, Skylenna.” He looks down at his brother in anguish. Regret. Remorse.

“TELL ME HOW TO FIX IT!”

“I wish I knew.”

I’m standing on the bed with a burning face and clenching fists.

“I can’t go through this again, Kaspias. I WON’T GO THROUGH IT AGAIN!”

But the doorway is empty. Darkness drowns out the bedroom as the sun goes down, stealing all warmth, all comfort, all sight in its wake.

“This was supposed to be our happy ending! No! We deserved these years together! After everything we’ve given up!” I’m screaming at God now, looking up to the ceiling. “How could you do this to us? Haven’t we done enough?! This was supposed to be our happy ending!!”

And again, like before, when Dessin and Kane thought I was the demon that ruined their lives, I’m left alone in the dark. But this time, Kane isn’t here to pull me out of the basement.

He’s motionless in our bed.

Eyes closed.

Heart still beating.

Kane Valdawell is lost in a coma.

And I have no way of getting him out.

To be continued in…

Wait, is there an epilogue?!