Page 69 of Theirs to Ruin

“Are you okay?” I asked.

He dropped his hands but continued to stare at the floor.

“We buried her yesterday.”

I flinched. “I know. I wish I could have been there but I knew I wouldn’t be welcome.”

He didn’t bother to contradict me.

“I’m sure it was difficult for you and your family,” I said.

I wasn’t sure what else to say. I had been in his shoes when my mother died and no amount of words comforted me.

“It was a beautiful ceremony,” he murmured. “She would have—” His voice cracked, and he turned away, not wanting me to see his vulnerability.

“It’s okay to be upset,” I told him. “You don’t need to be strong all the time, Kage.”

“You’re wrong. In my world, vulnerability means losing everything.”

I fought the urge to reach for his hand. Instead, we sat in silence for a while before he abruptly stood. “I need to finish packing her things.”

“Can I help?”

He looked at me like I was crazy. “Thanks, but that probably wouldn’t be a good idea. Fingerprints and you still being a person of interest and all that.”

“My fingerprints are all over this room, anyway,” I reminded him. “I used to live here. We were friends once.”

“Still, I’d rather do this alone if it’s all the same to you.”

I nodded, determined to give him the space he obviously needed. I headed for the door, then stopped when I saw a picture frame on the floor, the glass cracked. The photo was of Ava, standing between her parents, with a much younger Kage wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

Kage walked over and picked it up. "That was during our trip to Myrtle Beach," he murmured, a faint smile playing on his lips. "We fought over who would build the tallest sandcastle. Ava won, of course."

For a moment, his features relaxed, and I wanted more of that ease for him. I wanted to free him from his pain, offer him a momentary escape, a chance to relive more cherished memories. “You can talk about her if you want.”

I held my breath as his smile transformed into a tight line.

“I just meant, if you wanted to talk about happier times it might help…” I shook my head and sighed. “Never mind. I shouldn’t have?—”

I turned to leave again but he caught my hand, staring at it as he spoke. "It would be nice to talk about the good times. At the funeral, no one did. I…” He paused, his voice trailing off.

I squeezed his hand. “It’s okay. Tell me. I’ll listen.”

He thought for a moment, then looked up at me, another small smile on his lips. “When we were kids, Ava and I would spend hours exploring the woods behind our house. She had such a wild imagination. She'd spin tales of magical creatures, enchanted castles, and hidden treasures. We'd pretend we were on some grand adventure, searching for lost kingdoms. She never wanted to be the helpless princess, though." He suddenly started chuckling. “Sometimes, she’d make me play the helpless prince so she could fight off dragons and save me.”

I smiled. It was hard to imagine Ava like that, so relaxed and playful. Kage sobered, almost as if he could read my thoughts.

"People change, Camille. She wasn’t always the bully she became. The bully she showed the school. There was a time when she was sweet. When she’d do anything for her friends.”

Slowly, my own smile faded. I clasped Kage’s hand between both of mine, my expression turning serious. “I saw that side of her, too. It didn’t happen often, but when she lowered her walls, she was an amazing person.” I thought of what Dante had said to me at the overlook. “Someone reminded me recently that people who are mean to others are often dealing with their own pain.”

His gaze intensified, his thumb rubbing circles on the back of my hand. “Sounds like someone wise.”

"He is.” I wanted to ask what pain Ava had suffered from, to learn more about why she shut herself off from me, but that hardly seemed appropriate. Instead, I said, “You were telling the truth that day, weren't you? You never told Ava about me getting roofied. She found out some other way."

“Brooke told her. It’s why she never came back to school. She didn’t want to face me.”

“Why? What would you do to her?” I couldn’t keep the fear from my voice.

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