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He leans in, close enough that I can see the flecks of amber in his irises, the same ones I see in my reflection, because we’re family. Or, we were. “You won’t tell a single soul. I’ll make sure of that.”

The pressure builds fast, cutting off air, cutting off sound. My vision blurs and black creeps in around the edges like spilled ink. I try to speak, to scream, but nothing comes out, not even a strangled rasp. His grip tightens as he squeezes harder, crushing the fragile cords inside my throat.

The pain that flares is sharp and searing as it radiates outward.

I can’t speak.

I can’t breathe.

“You should’ve stayed blind, Luce,” he hisses out, his breath hot against my ear. “You don’t get to turn on us now. If you ever tell anyone what happened here, I’ll kill them in front of you, and only leave you alive so you can watch it happen over and over again.”

I barely hear him over the roar in my head. The blood pounding like a drum. My lungs screaming for air that won’t come. I dig my nails deeper into his flesh, but he doesn’t budge, his expression almost serene as he watches the life drain from my eyes in contrast to his threat.

The fire cracks louder in a warning before a beam above groans, splinters, then crashes down in a shower of sparks and burning wood. Richy stumbles back, releasing me as the burning wood slams into the ground between us. Embers spray into the air like fireflies, some landing on my skin and clothes, burning tiny holes before I can brush them away.

I collapse to my knees and gasp, drawing in a ragged breath that tears at my throat. My fingers claw at my neck, exploring the damage, but no sound comes when I try to call out. Only air wheezing through a broken passage. It’s agony and relief all at once, but having air in my lungs never felt so good, despite the searing pain in my throat.

I push myself up onto shaking legs. My lungs burning with each breath. Richy still stands there on the other side of the flames, blocked by the burning beam, his voice warped by the heat, eyes reflecting the fire with an unholy light. I don’t wait to see what he’ll do next. I run.

When I make it up the stairs, stumbling into the night air that feels like ice compared to the inferno below, I see Autumn standing outside with her men, looking shaken and searching the flames. I try to call out to her, to warn her, but my voice doesn’t work. Nothing emerges other than a strangled wheeze that doesn’t carry in the night air.

Richy’s threat echoes in my mind, sharp and clear despite the chaos around us. I’ve already ruined so many lives with my blindness to the truth, I won’t risk hers, too. Not when she was brave enough to do what I couldn’t: face the truth and fight it.

So, I place a finger to my lips, hoping she’ll stay quiet about my survival, and then I run. I sprint in another directions, away from her, away from the building that housed so many unknown horrors, away from the brother I no longer recognize. My feet pound against the pavement, each step jarring through my body, tears streaming down my face and evaporating in the heat still radiating from the burning building.

I stumble into the smoke-choked night with my chest heaving and my throat silent. My shoes beat a desperate, panicked rhythm against the ground as I run, heading anywhere but here, anywhere my brothers won’t find me.Anywhere I can begin to atone for what I’ve done, and for what I failed to do.

My voice is gone, and so is everything I ever believed in.