Page 53 of Glass

I study his hands. So strong, so sure. As if I could place my worries onto them, and he would carry them for me. But that’s a lie.

“When you walked into the throne room that day,” I say quietly. “I thought for a second that you might be there for me.”

Kit closes his eyes. Swears under his breath. “Stasi…”

Because he knows exactly what I’m saying. They weren’t there for me. They were there to take me. To punish me, to twist the knife a little further. And how Ella would rejoice if she knew just how much that little plot twist in our lives would hurt me.

I pull my hands away from his. “So no. It doesn’t matter, Kit. This conversation, whatever you think you’ve solved here – none of it matters because it doesn’tchangeanything.”

I’m still here. Still tied to this house, to them, forced to serve the men I once loved. To work my debt off, for a crime I didn’t do.

For a crime that was done tome.

The whole world thinks I’m a monster, and even if Kit thinks he knows the truth, I know that Silas and Rafe won’t believe it. All they have is my word, and a few newspaper articles.

And God knows that my word means nothing in this house. For that, I have nobody to blame but myself.

I swipe my hand over my eyes, brushing the dampness away. Tucking away the pain, pushing it down far enough for me to function. “I need to get this to Ellen. She’s waiting.”

But Kit’s voice rings out as I tread heavily towards the door. “This isn’t done, Stasi.”

Hope is a delicate thing.

Like glass.

So delicate that once it shatters, it will never be the same again.

My hope has been shattered so many times that I can’t even see the pieces anymore.

Except now, I don’twantthose pieces. I don’t want to risk picking them up again. They hurt too much. Cutting, slicing, wounding.

And most of all… I don’t want to be disappointed again. Especially by them.

I don’t think I would survive it.

So I turn my back on the one person who might actually believe the truth.

And I walk out.

23 – Kit – ten years ago

The keys move beneath my fingers without any thought at all.

The melody pours out of me in a way that’s never happened before. Notes tangle with each other until I can almost see them in the air, twisting, entwining.

This is perfect. So perfectlyher.

“Kit?”

Shit.

I nearly trap my hand as I slam the fallboard down. “Stasi.”

When I twist, she’s right fucking there, watching me with those eyes that follow me into my dreams. Every night since she’s arrived.

I’ve never felt so exhausted, and yet soexhilarated, as I have since Anastasia walked into this house. As though I’ve been waiting for her my entire life, to finally feel something.

Her brown eyes blink, and I take in the cotton pajamas she’s wearing as she fiddles with the sleeves.