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I wonder if Dante or Orlando have heard anything. They’ve been awfully close at school lately. I know they’ve been told to be. But honestly, if something were to happen, it’d probably be me either getting us into trouble or out of it. I’m good at both.

Picking up a dress, I turn to tell Tilly I’m going to try it on. Only to immediately drop the hanger. My feet are moving but I’m not fast enough. The sound of a gunshot deafens me. By the time I reach the guy holding the gun, I’m too late. He just shot my cousin.

My sweet, innocent, good cousin.

I reach under my skirt and take hold of my blade. I don’t even think before my arm is lifting and my knife is slicing across his neck. I smile when I see the first drops of blood spill free. The gun in his hand clanks against the floor and his hand comes up to his throat. Dead eyes connect with mine.

Good, I’m going to be the last thing this motherfucker sees.

My foot kicks out at his stomach. He falls over and I jump on top of him, stabbing him over and over again until I hear her. Tilly making a whimpering sound.

I crawl off the asshole and over to my cousin. “It’s okay. Tilly, keep your eyes open,” I tell her, holding my bloodied hands over her open wound. “Someone call a fucking ambulance.”

I look outside. Where is the security detail? We had one of our soldiers outside the store and now he’s gone. What the hell is happening?

When the paramedics arrive, I breathe a sigh of relief. She’s going to be okay. I jump in the back of the ambulance with her. Both of the paramedics pale when I give them her name. Most people in this city know who my family is. Hopefully, it makes them work harder to save my cousin’s life.

I’ve locked myself in my bathroom. To say my parents are distraught would be an understatement. My whole family is in shock over what happened today. Tilly woke up, though. She’s going to be okay. Thank god. But the guy who shot her? He’s never waking up. I made sure of that.

My parents keep looking at me, waiting for me to break down or do something. The thing is, I don’t feel bad. I don’t feel anything. Actually, that’s a lie. I do feel something. It’s just not something I can tell them. They wouldn’t understand.

The room is filled with steam. I’m not even in the shower. I’m sitting on the tile floor because I just wanted ten minutes of peace. Ten minutes where I can just be me without being looked at like I’m a bomb about to explode.

I wish I knew what a normal person would do in this situation. Would they cry? Would they say they were sorry?Should I do that? Pretend that I’m remorseful? Maybe then they wouldn’t look at me like I’m this monster.

I know they don’t mean to look at me that way, and that I could just be reading more into it than what it is. I can’t blame them. Their little girl is going around killing people. It’s a lot for any parent to accept. Even mine.

There’s a knock on my bathroom door. “Aurora?” my brother Enzo calls out from the other side.

Reaching up, I unlatch the lock and then the door opens. Enzo walks in, closing it behind him. He sits on the floor next to me.

“You doing okay?” he asks.

“Why are you here, Enzo?”

“Enjoying the steam room you have going on. You know, I bet if you asked Pops for a sauna, he’d put one in here for you. Probably save water,” my brother says, leaning over and nudging his shoulder with mine. “What’s on your mind?”

“You mean other than the fact that our cousin is lying in a hospital bed? Someone shot her, right in front of me, and I didn’t stop it,” I tell him.

“No one expects you to stop every bullet, Aurora.”

“I should have been closer to her. I walked to the back of the store. I should have stayed with her.”

“And then what? Have you both laid up in the hospital? It’s not your fault, Aurora.” Enzo wraps his arm around me, pulling me against him.

“I could have stopped it,” I whisper.

“Maybe. But we can’t live in a world ofwhat ifs,” he tells me.

I get what he’s saying, but it also doesn’t change what I know to be true. I could have stopped it. I know I could have.

“I don’t want you to put this on yourself. You’re a seventeen-year-old girl, Aurora. You should be out having the time of your life. Not fighting for it.”

“Are you saying I should be out partying and meeting boys?” I smile up at my brother.

“Fuck no, but you should be having fun,” he grunts. “Just without the wholeboysthing.”

“Mmm, is that what you’re doing? Having fun? No girls?” I pinch his side, sitting up and forcing his arm to drop from my shoulders.