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Evelyn, please. I need you.

Amara is dead. Please call me back.

You want everyone else to care about you, but you don’t give a fuck about anyone else.

Dante has really fucked you up.

Don’t ever expect me to be there for you again.

Amara was your sister too you know. She deserved better.

She would be so pissed at you right now if she knew you ignored her death for him.

He’s just using you. He will never love you, Ev. I tried to tell you, but now you’ll have to figure it out on your own. I’m done. Fuck you.

My hand shakes as I grip my phone. My throat closes in on itself. This isn’t fucking real. I am having another nightmare. Amara isn’t dead. She can’t be.

I quickly go to Astra’s Instagram and I see her post from last night. She died yesterday, and I was too busy sulking to know.You didn’t know. It’s not your fault.

It is my fucking fault. I didn’t even tell Astra that I was okay. Knowing Astra, she is probably on a bender. She hasn’t had a relapse in a while, but I’m sure this sent her into one. I go into the bathroom and wipe my face with a towel. Trying to suppress my tears to make the call.

I stare at myself in the mirror, wearing a sports bra and my shorts. The angry markings are slowly scabbing. I fucking hate myself.

I hover above her name and press call.

The phone rings and gets forwarded to voicemail.

I call again.

And again.

And again.

Nothing. I have to see her. I need to apologize. I grab my bag and slip on my tennis shoes, sprinting out of my room and downstairs.

The soft light in the kitchen makes me freeze in my tracks. It’s after ten, everyone should be sleeping. Confusion peaks its way into my brain.Dante.

I walk into the kitchen, expecting Dante to be waiting for me at the island, but I stiffen in place when I lock eyes with my mother and father.

My mother is standing with her arms crossed, and my father has both hands placed flat on the countertop. Each of them has a concern etched in their face.

“Evelyn, we need to talk,” my mother starts.

I roll my eyes, not wanting to have this conversation.

“Are you going to hate me, too? Astra already does. She’s the only one who can ignore people for days and get away with it.”

“WHAT THE HELL IS ON YOUR STOMACH?” my father raises his voice.

I cross my arms over the markings. I wore my sports bra so the scabs wouldn’t come off. I had a sweatshirt in my car that I was going to slip on. I thought they would be asleep.They see you. They will know what you’ve done.

“Honey, he is not good for you. What happened to our sweet baby girl?” I can see the hurt in my mother’s eyes.

“Did Astra tell you that? I can make my own choices, Mom.”

“You will not disrespect your mother in my fucking house,” his tone is clipped and edged with warning.

“You know Evelyn. I know I am not mistaken. I raised you with morals, values, and goals. I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but I do know that it won’t end well. Not for you. Not for him.”