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Now I'm the one fighting tears. I thought I’d processed my shit with Jerry. With the abuse. With his death. But this kind of healing happens in layers, and there are a shit ton of layers to work through. Just when I think I've got it covered, another wave of emotion hits me. I wonder if I'll ever be rid of that asshole or if he'll always haunt my soul in some way.

"I appreciate that," I say, keeping my voice calm. She's trying, and I don't want to ignore that, but I also can't just let her think a quick 'sorry' is enough. She's part of the problem and she needs to own that. We all have to own our part in the trauma we create for others.

"Listen…Moira, the way you treated me on the stand? The questions you asked me? The victim blaming? Those things weren’t okay. You became complicit in his abuse." My words are harsh, but my tone is soft.

She bows her head. "I could say I was just doing my job. It would be the truth."

"Sure," I say, agreeing. "You could say that. But is that the person you really want to be?"

She shakes her head, and when she makes eye contact with me again, the tears she's been holding back flow freely. "You don't understand what it's like to love someone, to be so close to someone who is capable of such acts. It tore my heart in two. Jerry and I were best friends growing up. How could I turn on him? I thought I could help him. Save him from his darkest impulses. He wasn't all bad." She chokes out her last words, and I do something that surprises both of us. I pull her into a hug.

"I do understand," I whisper to her. "I do."

She cries into my shoulder, and the Night brothers watch silently as I console a woman I would have considered my enemy twenty minutes ago.

Maybe she's still my enemy. We will certainly face each other in court again. Or maybe everyone we meet has a story that would break our hearts, if only we took a moment to hear it. And maybe when we hear those stories, and see those people with new eyes, we will realize none of us are all that different from one another. We all make the best choices we can with what we have. Some of us just have less than others. Some of us have more to lose.

Some of us can't handle the heartbreak again.

Eventually her tears dry, and I walk her out. Something has shifted between us. How long it lasts or what it will look like another day, I have no idea. But for now, Moira and I see each other in a new light, and I grip her hand before she leaves and squeeze it. I don't have words to offer her, but I think we both share the moment just fine in silence.

When I return, Elijah stands and pulls me into his arms.

He isn't the brother I expected to offer comfort, but I accept it. And as we hold each other close, I lose track of time and forget my worries. Even if just for a moment.

* * *

Some time later,Liam joins us. No one mentions the visit from Moira. He's too concerned as it is.

"Has the milkweed come?" he asks.

"Not yet," I say. "We're waiting. How's Lily doing?"

"Not well. But no worse." He walks over to a crib in the corner of the library where Alina is sleeping peacefully, and stares down at her, his eyes softening. "Do you think she dreams? Do you think she knows what happened to her mother and brother?"

Guilt floods me at his words. Because I know the truth that he doesn't. And the secret is a cancer eating away at my soul. "I think she feels safe here. She feels safe and happy with you," I say honestly.

He smiles at me, then begins pacing the room as we all wait for the medicine to arrive. I pull out my sketchbook and distract myself with a new drawing. Without thinking, I find myself sketching the mysterious man I saw at the festival. His dark eyes and confident posture. The way he held my gaze with his. The way I felt him calling to me, connecting to me.

I'm so lost in my drawing that when someone knocks on the door, I nearly break my pencil in surprise.

I stick it back into my bag and stand. "Lily's medicine?" I ask. It must be. It's been so long.

Liam dashes to the front door and I follow, hoping desperately that this potion will cure my friend. I can't bear to think of her so injured, burned, after losing her family in a fire. I can only imagine the trauma she's experiencing right now.

Liam swings open the door. "It's about time!" He barks, then stops short when he sees who's there.

Three Enforcers, fully armed, faces hard.

One holds up a parchment. "Liam Night?" he asks.

"Yes," Liam says harshly. “What’s going on—"

The Enforcer grabs him, wrapping his wrists in steel carved with magical glyphs. "You're under arrest for arson, public destruction of property, and conspiracy to steal a dragon egg."

Chapter 3: The Fight

How doyou go back to being strangers with someone who has seen your soul? ~Nikita Gill