Page 133 of The Truths We Burn

“See you around,” they both say at the same time before disappearing down the hallway.

Silas follows their trail as they leave before turning his concentration on me. Walking only a few steps into the room, he leans against the doorframe, arms crossed in front of his chest. I never knew he had tattoos because most of the time he wears long sleeves. A lot like me as of recently.

Except I’m hiding scars, and he’s just, well, hiding.

I’m uncomfortable with the awkward silence that settles between us, so I try to make simple conversation. I need this to be a painless process. A few weeks inside of his house to prove I’m not a snitch, a few weeks until my father is dead, and we can all go our separate ways.

It will be over.

“Are they twins?” I ask, referring to his brothers, grabbing some of my clothes out of my suitcase and walking them to the dresser against the wall.

“No, they are a year and some change apart. Caleb is the older one, he just never acts like it.”

“Is Levi the one who is into basketball? Or is that just for show?” I slide the clothes inside the drawer, looking over my shoulder to find him already staring at me.

“Yes, and he’s decent. He will get better once he learns to discipline himself and when he realizes that beating his uncoordinated brother does not make him great.”

I laugh, not really thinking before I speak.

“Did you know Rosemary tried cheerleading when we were little? We stayed up all night going over routines, and she still forgot every single one of the moves the next day.”

I’m not sure why I expected him to laugh or even smile. It just feels nice to talk about her, in a positive light. To remember her for what she was and not what happened to her.

But she’s always a sore subject, a gaping wound, and talking about her probably makes things worse for him.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to bring her up.”

“It’s okay. I don’t mind. I like hearing other people’s memories of her.”

But it’s not that simple, is it? It’s never that simple.

“I know it’s probably hard for you,” I say. “Having me here. Seeing me. I’m not unaware of our similarities. I could have stayed in a hotel or stayed in the dorm. I don’t have to be here if it’s too much for you.”

He doesn’t say anything immediately, driving me crazy wondering what the hell is going through his mind right now.

I’m the living reminder of what he lost, and for a man in mourning, I’m not someone who he wants to see every day. I know that.

“Everything is hard. Waking up. Breathing.” He sighs. “Having you here isn’t hard. It’s the only easy thing in my life. Because I look at you and I know that a piece of her soul survived. That a part of her lives in you.”

My throat dries up like cotton is being stuffed into my mouth.I’m half-speechless and half-worried. I know that mindset can’t be healthy, not for him. But I don’t have it in me to say anything different.

“I—”

I stop abruptly as I turn around, finding Silas there. His stealth movements have me surprised, but his distance from me makes me uncomfortable. My back hits the handles of the dresser, feeling the wood dig into my skin as I try to put some space between us.

He’s close.

Too close.

“And I will do anything to protect that piece.”His voice tickles my face, and I’m trying to decide the best route in getting out of this situation that I have found myself in.

“Silas, what are you doing?” I ask softly, concerned for him, worried about him.

Those hardened eyes melt, the features in his face visibly softening, and for a moment I think it’s because he might cry for my sister.

I was wrong.

“Baby,” he says, and the word itself sounds like it was ripped from inside his chest. So guttural and painful, but I’m not his baby. “I missed you so much.”