Page 61 of Borrowed

But for a moment, in that ruin…

I just wanted to be alive.

In the soot.

Tangled.

Stained.

He buried his face in my neck and whispered, “I love you, my twin.Without you, I’m nothing.”

The sirens were there now.

Like they finally remembered us.

I could hear the gravel crackle beneath their tires and distant voices barking commands through radios.

But none of it mattered.

Not here.

Not with him.

Toby still had his arms around me, our bodies twisted together on the blackened floor of the old house.The air was thick with ash and rot and something holy.

He looked down at me and kissed my lips.

I reached up and touched the bandages that wrapped around his head, soft now with age, stained with soot, damp from sweat and blood.He flinched beneath my fingers.

“I need to see you,” I whispered.

He shook his head slowly.“You can’t turn back.”

“No.”My voice broke like glass.“I want to see you.Please.”

The black butterfly that had always hovered nearby drifted low, the mist billowing around us.

Something inside me twisted, and I leaned up, reaching for the strands.He grabbed my wrist like before, the bandages soaking with blood and singing with fire that didn’t burn.

“Toby,” I breathed.“Please.”

The butterfly fell lower, unable to keep flight, landing on the broken shards of glass across from us.Its wings fluttering, stuttering, dying.

Toby let go of my wrists.

And I pulled the knot loose.

He didn’t stop me as the blood spilled from the fabric, dripping over his body and warping his image.

The bandages unraveled like an old lie, strip by strip, breath by breath until they fell into my lap like a discarded skin.

I braced myself to see him.

But it wasn’t his face beneath the cloth.

It was…

Delicate lips.