Page 165 of The Story of You

“Where are they?” They are my siblings. They’re children.

“You’re good at scavenger hunts, Silas. If you can find them, they’re yours.”

I envision tearing his throat out with my teeth.

“You don’t get Indy, though. He’s mine. Unlike you, he doesn’t want to leave. He was more than happy for me to get rid of his brothers.”

If that’s even remotely true, it’s only because of Aleksander’s manipulations.

“However, I’d be willing to trade. Him for you. I had you once, I can do it again. You understand this … this thing inside me. We are the same, Silas. You just need to remember.”

The clouds in my head part. I stand taller. There are a million things I could say to him. So many insults that would be true. Accusations. Threats. But they would all slip away like water off a duck’s back and the residue would fuel him.

“No. First, I’ll find them. Then, I’m coming for Indy.”

“I can’t think of a better gift. For you to show up on my doorstep around this time next year.”

I squint. “Why this time next year?”

“He’s seventeen. I’m sure you haven’t forgotten my rules.”

I have one year. Fucking asshole. I grit my teeth. The tears won’t stop but at least he’ll know how pissed I am. He’s insane, but my anger will bother him.

“May the best Randall win,” I say. I turn without being dismissed and stride away for as long as I can manage.

Then I run.

* * *

Silas

Iam not myself. I beeline to the van as a madman intent on one thing with tears flying off my face. I can’t stop them. Lakshan is there, waiting for me, his arms open.

“Sh-Shane. I need you to … I need you to drive.” I think I said that. I don’t know. It sounds like a voice I used a hundred years ago.

They can all drive now—even Oliver—but it shows where I’m at, lost in time, returned to the past. I follow Lakshan into the van, we take the first bench seat in the back. Oliver piles in on my other side and grips my hand while I bury my face into Lakshan’s neck. I gulp his scent in long pulls, needing it to keep me steady and grounded in this world.

“Don’t let me go,” I murmur. “Don’t … don’t let me.”

“He’ll have to kill me, my beloved.”

The van is moving, I think. I don’t know what’s going on for several miles. Breathing happens as sharp, ragged pulls with Lakshan coaching me to, “Breathe, Raja. C’mon. That’s it. Breathe.”

Oliver tries to hide his tears from me and it’s a gallant effort, but I’m too attuned to him even in my state. We have to pull over a few times so I can puke and then it’s back to trying to find my next breath.

When I find my way back, I note how hard Oliver’s squeezing my hand and that Darius is chewing glass with visions of murder dancing across his pupils. Lakshan is humming a lullaby in Hindi. My hands shake, but Lak’s humming has settled within me.

I sit up and look at everyone watching me. Wyatt, Asher, Julius, and Simon from the very back seat. Oliver and Lak are near me. Darius from the passenger seat and even Shane glancing in the rearview as he keeps his eyes on the road. The highway rushes by us.

“I’m sorry,” I tell them all.

“My God, for what, Dad? I’d throw myself off a cliff.”

I frown. “Don’tevertalk like that.”

He smiles and wipes at his eyes with the back of his hand. “He’s fully back with us, guys. Seriously, Baba. That was a lot for anyone. Even the Terminator.”

Latching onto my side, he makes himself at home. I kiss his Randall-blond head.