Page 116 of The Truths We Burn

Now, I’m left with these scars as a reminder that I couldn’t even die correctly. I spent a lot of time in the psych ward planning on getting out and paying my father back for what he had done, conjuring up ways to destroy him, because I realized he would do anything for money.

Even if I had succeeded in killing myself, he would have still continued to do gruesome things to stay at the top of the Ponderosa Springs’ food chain.

The only way to stop him was to kill him, and I couldn’t wait for that day.

A sob erupts from my chest, pouring from me like venom. It burns and rips my throat as it builds up. I place my hand over my mouth, shaking as I cry, and the tears leak a little faster.

This harsh reality I never wanted to accept hit like a train today.

It’s this realization that you’re older than your twin. This monumental stab in the gut because it’s been 365 days without her. That’s a birthday, a Christmas, all of these memories she never got to create. Another reminder that when she died, I did too. I just happened to keep existing.

“Sage?”

I roll over in my bed, looking at the door.

Lyra and Briar are standing in the archway, holding a bag of candies and movies in their hands.

“You said you likedSixteen Candles, right? We couldn’t remember if you said sour Skittles or regular, so we just got both,” Lyra says, wiggling the bag in the air.

“How did you get in here?”

Briar lifts a bobby pin from her pocket. “These locks are a breeze and…”

Reaching inside her the front of her plaid button-up, she pulls out a blunt. “I nabbed this from Rook the other day.”

Even though I really don’t want to, I smile a little.

“Little thief is starting to make sense now,” I tell her.

She shrugs. “My thievery has started to become pretty handy around here.”

I run my hand beneath my nose, wiping the snot and tears that had fallen there. They both look so hopeful, coming in here intent on cheering me up, or at the very least giving me a break from the sorrow.

They know what today is.

“Thank you, guys, but I’m not really in the mood. I figured you all would be with the guys.”

“They’re spending the weekend at Silas’s parents’ cabin in Portland. They needed some time, needed a space to be somewhere with Silas. And we thought…” Briar looks at Lyra for help.

“We thought we could do the same for you,” she finishes for her.

“I just—” I hum, trying not to cry anymore, hating this feeling of being too vulnerable. “I just think I need to be alone today. There isn’t much that I think will make this better, not today.”

I think that’s why I enjoy acting. Being on the stage, I can release my emotions freely through a character, and no one questions it because they think it’s just a part of the script. I can be vulnerable, soft, gentle.

Not this constantly snarky, bitter person.

“We know we can’t make it better. That’s not the point.” Lyra steps farther into my room. “It’s about not letting you be sad, alone. About making it more bearable. I don’t know what it feels like to lose a twin, but I did lose my mom.”

I look over at her, at the understanding in her eyes. Not pity or sympathy, but a mutual knowledge of similar pain.

“No one can bring them back. No matter how badly we want it. But you don’t have to feel that alone. We don’t have to talk about her, or we can. We will do whatever you want today, even if you just want us to sit here with you in silence. I went through the death of my mother all alone, with no one to be there for me, and I refuse to let you do that to yourself. Not when you have us here.”

Friendship.

It had always been a foreign concept to someone like me.

A girl who was taught that the relationships you keep close to you are only to push you further in life. It’s never about the actual connection. I was always just a pawn in people’s lives, used for what I could bring them.