Page 206 of Piece Us Together

I keep breaking.

All I can do is break.

I stumble back to the window, unable to stop myself from watching. I find the brothers there—Aaron and Alex. They’re standing shoulder to shoulder, watching the show on the lawn.

“Why aren’t you out there?” Aaron asks without looking at me.

“I can’t get out.”

“Don’t you love them?” Alex asks.

I yell, “I can’t get out!”

They don’t care. They disappear.

“I can’t get out,” I tell the empty air. “I can’t get out, I can’t get out, I’m sorry, I can’t get out.”

“Maison?” someone asks, voice soft. “Hey, woah, Maison. Sweetheart. Come here.”

I turn, frantic, terrified, and—and—and it’s—“Hunter?”

He smiles. God, it’s such a nice smile. All warm and happy and proud. I don’t deserve that smile. I don’t deserve him.

“I can’t get out,” I admit, hot tears of shame rolling down my cheeks. “I—I keep trying, but I can’t get out.”

“Shh.” He comes toward me, hands on my biceps. He moves them up and down. Soothing. Gentle. “You’re okay. Just breathe. I’ve got you.”

“Hunter,” I sob. I can’t believe he doesn’t understand. He’s supposed to understand, supposed to take care of us, supposed to keep me from ruining it. What would ruin things more than me not fucking saving the man we love and my little brother?

I grasp desperately at the front of his shirt. He chuckles, still warm, and pulls me into his arms. He kisses the top of my head and runs his hand up and down my back and says, “I’ve got you, kitten. I’ve got you. Shh.”

“Nolan—he—Nolan and Carter are—they’re—I can’t get to them. I can’t get to them and they’re—they’re going to—they’rehurting them, they’re hurting them, Hunter, please, you have to—you have to help me.”

“Maison. Hey. Maison.” He pulls back, cupping my face in his hands. He presses his forehead to mine. “Take a breath, sweetheart. Breathe. You’re fine. They’re fine.”

“They’re not!”

“Maison—”

“I have to save them!”

“Maison, look—hey, sweetheart, look.” He turns my face, forcing me to look at the window again. I tense up in anticipation. It’s bright out there, but not from a floodlight. It’s sunlight, a warm glow cast over the bright green of the lawn. There are flowers growing around the edges. Daffodils, I think. Carter isn’t on a St. Andrew’s Cross, he’s on Travis’s shoulders, arms spread in the air in a V shape as he whoops. Nolan is at Travis’s feet, sprawled in the grass with a pair of sunglasses on and a cookbook—the one I bought him—in his hands. Matt is using his stomach as a headrest while messing around on his tablet.

They’re…fine.

They’re perfectly fine.

No blood or tears or injuries. No monsters. No danger. It’s just sunlight and daffodils and laughter.

“They’re safe.”

“Yes,” Hunter agrees. “You saved them, remember?”

I put a hand on the window. It’s not broken anymore. None of me is. I’m whole, all of my cracks filled right up, a work of art, a survivor.

“Let me show you.” He puts a hand on the small of my back, then places his hand on the glass beside my own. It disappears the moment his skin makes contact. He steps out, guiding me to step with him.

Travis turns, Carter grinning when he sees me. “Maison!”

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