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As I shut the door, bitter words follow me out. “And don’t come back until you’re done being a fucking coward.”

I cast a glare at the hidden grave she was buried in. It shouldn’t be possible for someone I helped put in the ground to become the bane of my existence.

Chapter 21

Becca

29 Days Dead

This day just keeps getting worse and it’s not even six a.m.

I’m caught in grief’s tightening grip as my brother slips into my room with the first rays of sun. We’re both still as death as he traces my room with an artist’s eyes, memorizing every detail, and appreciating the small things. But of course, his eyes skip right over me, and that heavy hand squeezes all the air out of my lungs, leaving me hollow and weak.

We might not have always understood each other, but he loved me and that was worth more than I ever let him know. Emotion clogs my throat as I stroke the butterfly tattoos he drew for me.

Sitting on the bed, he’s incredibly close yet so far away. “We said I could go first. Like the overachiever you are, you just couldn’t be second, could you?” A snotty laugh escapes him. “This is so fucked up. I don’t know how to do this.” He rubs his eyes and attempts to suck in a controlled breath, but it devolves into a quiet sob. Witnessing the pain I’ve caused is my burden to bear, so I take this last opportunity to look at him,reallylook at him. Instead of the similarities that always tied us together, I’m stuck on the stark difference of his chest rising and falling, the pumping of his heart, the way he takes up space—he always has, but this hurts more than ever.

“I’m sorry I left you.” The ache to comfort him feels like it could shatter me, but what’s the point when it gets lost in the silent pit that separates us? There’s nothing I can do to fix the devastating domino effect my actions have had on him or my parents. Aiden is alive and yet he looks hollowed out by the loss of me. Bright, determined eyes are darkened with grief, just like the bags beneath his eyes. His pale pallor is sickly, near translucent instead of porcelain.

“I failed you, Sis. I’ll never forgive myself, but I can’t stay here. This house has become your tomb, one I’m trapped in just staring down at your dead body. Everywhere I look, it’s empty eyes and your blood smeared on the walls, the floors, my hands.”

“I hate that I’ve become the thing that haunts you.” Regret swells inside me the longer I’m near him.

“I know it wasn’t enough, but just know I loved you and I always will.”

“God, I’m going to miss you, but I hope leaving sets you free from the memories of this place.”

Aiden lets out a long sigh. “No matter how many miles are between us, even separated by time and space, you’ll always be with me.” Bracing himself, he gets off the bed and takes one last look at my room, his gaze snagging on my jewelry box, which he proceeds to open and sift through. Silver catches the rising sun as he slips on a few rings. That’s something isn’t it? That a little piece of me will be with him? That some part of me will get to see who he becomes without my ghost breathing down his neck? Even if it’s a silly fantasy, I’m enshrining it as one of the fundamental truths of this new world I find myself in.

“I hope you find new reasons to smile—you always had the best fucking smile.” I laugh like he made a typical smug remark. “I love you, Aiden.” I squeeze my eyes shut, I don’t want the last memory to be of him leaving me, a courtesy he wasn’t afforded.

The house heaves a sigh when Aiden shuts the front door, like the air has become lighter—one less person’s grief to hold. But to me, it’s notably emptier. Another piece is carved out of me.Who knew a razor blade could do so much more than slice?

Those wounds that have started to heal over bleed anew. Returning to the scene of the crime, I sink down into the empty tub and really let myself stew in it. This time, instead of cold bath water, it’s my tears that carry me under; I let them wash me out to sea. Wave after wave of devastation washes over me, pummeling me. As I wade further and further out, a new kind of hunger I’ve never experienced grows in the void of my gut.

But in the endless sea of nothing, there’s Stasi standing in the doorway. With seasick eyes, I can’t tell if she’s a shark looking for blood in the water or if maybe she’s something to hold onto, just for right now, just until I can hold my head above the sloshing waves on my own.

She sits on the edge of the tub hovering uncomfortably close to me. The pads of her fingers press beneath my chin to tilt my head up. I freeze at the contact, my body confused by how gentle it is. I sway unsteadily between the instinct to recoil and the unfamiliar urge to lean into it. Something about her grounding hold and velvety skin on mine is like crawling into the safety of my bed after a bad day. But of course, the peace doesn’t last.

After several seconds of assessing my tear-stained face, she shakes her head, replacing the care in her eyes with annoyance. “What do we have here, Crybaby? Another pity party, what a surprise.”

This snaps me out of the false sense of security she lulled me into. “What do you want?”

“So many things you could never give me.” A deep sigh of disappointment heaves her chest up and down. “But I’ll settle for conversation, dull as it may be.”

Like a rogue piece of wood, Stasi’s sharp and uncomfortable, but she’s there. She can give me a reprieve from the struggle, for a few minutes at least. Even if it’s just taking my focus off treading water and on to the splinters that dig into my arm. “Fine. It’s not like I have anything better going on. What should we talk about?”

“Why are you moping this time?” Stasi’s curled fingers still press into the underside of my jaw. The way she holds me like it’s the most natural thing makes this the first time I’ve felt steady in so long.

“Aiden’s gone.” I swallow thickly. “For good, I think.” The last part is said with trembling lips.

“That’s—” She looks away and drops her hand. “I’m sorry.”

The sudden absence of her fingers leaves me floundering. “You are?” I huff with disbelief, my brow raising in challenge.

“I am.”

Two little words, the smallest bit of comfort, stir something in me, and before I know what I’m doing, my body is in motion. With a hand laced behind Stasi’s neck, I pull her into me, our lips pressing together. In sync, she climbs into the tub, straddling me. But when her tongue enters my mouth, it does so cautiously, moving in lazy circles; it’s nothing like the claiming she pursued when we kissed at the party. That’s what I need right now. That’s what will make me forget everything that’s so much worse than letting her think she was right about me. I deserve to fall into whatever this is for just a little bit.