Page 65 of Never Enough

My lungs burn, and my fingernails are in agony from clawing at anything and everything they made purchase on to survive. I don’t think about Momright now or how I can’t go back home, maybe never.

I’m dying, from the inside out, but with my last breaths, I just want to rest one last time.

An intense, sharp stabbing pieces my heart, so I have no choice but to go in.

With my already brittle fingernails, I pry his window open. Soft scents of sweat swoop into my face. I’m not surprised. It is a teenage boy’s room, after all.

Heaving my legs from the tree’s limb into the window, I hold my breath as I leap on the sill. The wood creaks underneath my weight, threatening my fall. Thankfully, I hold myself, though.

My eyes fixate on the closed door, my heart pounding in anticipation. The creaking from outside still echoes in my ears as I cautiously make my way inside through the window.

As soon as I enter, everything around me freezes. My world stands still, my senses on high alert. Something is wrong.

I can feel my breath catching in my throat, struggling for air once again. With a rush of adrenaline, I sprint towards Alexandru’s closet and burst through the open doorway, only to freeze when I see his feet swinging at eye level.

He’s above me. How is he above me?

Terrified, I tilt my chin up in slow motion, dreading what I might see. And then it hits me like a punch to the gut—he’s hanging.

I can’t look at his lifeless face, too terrified to witness the aftermath of his actions. Frantically searching for a chair, I finally find one and set it up behind him. My body heaves as I climb onto the chair and feverishly work to untie him.

My nails break and sting with pain, but I refuse to give up. Every second counts as I desperately try to save him.

“Hurry!” I scream, hoping someone will come and help me. But there is no one around, just the sound of Alexandru gasping for air.

He’s alive!

A surge of energy courses through me, and I lift his body enough for him to slip out of the rope around his neck. Together, we collapse onto the ground in a heap of exhaustion and relief. I did it. I saved him.

I’m trembling, both from my damp clothes clinging to my skin like a second layer of fear and from almost losing Alex. I cradle him in my arms. His body is heavier than I expected, but I don’t let that deter me.

“Alex,” I whisper, my voice shaking as much as my hands are. His ragged breathing gasps, meaning he’s here. He’s alive.

“Alex, please look at me.”

His brown eyes flutter open to meet mine. At first, I worry he doesn’t recognize me, but it fades as quickly as it came. Holy shit.

Alexandru Whitmore tried to kill himself.

Our breaths match as our chests rise and fall.

“Why are you wet?” That’s the first thing he asks me?! I shake my head, unable to explain what happened to me. What Motherdid is incomprehensible, so I change the subject.

“Why?” What I’m actually asking is,Why are you trying to leave me?But I don’t have the right to ask. He’s not mine.

The air between us becomes heavy, laden with the weight of unshed tears and unspoken pain. I search his face for answers, my gaze tracing the lines of strain around his eyes, the set of his jaw that speaks of inner turmoil. It tears me apart to see him like this.

To imagine a world where he doesn’t exist in it.

He looks away, his gaze finding some distant point in the mess of his closet. The silence stretches out, filled with the echo of his struggle and the soft patter of my heart trying to piece itself together.

“Talk to me, Alex,” I urge as I brush a strand of hair from his forehead. “Please.”

His throat works as he swallows hard, the Adam’s apple bobbing. He’s vulnerable in a way that I’ve never seen before, stripped of the fa—ade he wears like armor against the world. It’s raw.

“E-e-everything,” he cracks. “It’s j-just too much. It’s l-like I’m trapped underground, and e-everyone else is j-just watching from above.”

Tears prick at the corners of my eyes, but I force them back. This isn’t about me; it’s about Alex and the demons he’s fighting alone. I tighten my hold on him, willing my strength into his broken frame.

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