Page 3 of Alliance

I look over at him, his features are serious, questioning.

“I have an idea,” I tell him. “Same thing they tried to do to Lily.”

He nods his head, confirming my suspicions while his eyes stay glued on our parents. “You want that?” he asks.

I think of Lily. She tried to put on a brave face. I recall her wearing a royal blue dress and nude heels. Her hair was curled perfectly.“It’s gonna be fine, Little Lana.”She had told me with a smile. But whateverhedid to her that day was not fine.

It pushed her over the edge.

I swallow the lump building in my throat and turn my gaze to meet Sam’s. “No,” I whisper.

One hand leaves his pocket, coming up to run through the strands of his dark hair. “I didn’t think so,” he tells me. “You trust me?”

I nod.

“Good.” With that, he pushes off the wall and leaves me.

My heart is thrumming in my chest, beating far too fast as I watch the argument transpiring between my uncle and my parents. I do know what they want from me, why I’m sure they’re arguing with Uncle Junior. I’m not as dense as most people think. They see a pretty girl with dark hair and wide eyes, and immediately assume I’m some kind of damsel in distress. And that’s what I was raised to be, a woman with no goals, just a pretty face.

I feel like I’m suffocating beneath the fabric of my dress. Suddenly the funeral is too overwhelming, too stuffy. I break through the glass French doors, pushing out onto the back patio, heaving in a breath. I suck in air like I haven’t breathed in years.

I pant hard as I lean against the brick exterior, letting the rough surface scrape against my bare arm. I need more air. I need everything to stop spinning. It feels as if it’s all going to come crashing down at any second.

I’m terrified.

Lily was far stronger than me, she was also the smarter one, the more put-together one. If she couldn’t handle this…how will I?

“Are you okay?”

I shake my head without raising it to see who asked the question. It’s my least favorite one. Of all the questions to ask, why that?

The truth is, I’m not okay and I haven’t been for a while. Maybe since before Lily’s death. I’m not even sure ‘okay’ is a possibility in this family. Most days I strive for fine.

But how am I supposed to be? Should I fake happy, a smile plastered over my face to appease everyone around me? I’ve attended too many funerals. More than I can count on a single hand, maybe even both hands. How can I be content with the life I’ve been given when I hate everything about it? How does anyone expect me to becontentwhile death piles up around me?

I hiccup a sob, my thoughts pulling the emotions from me and shedding them via water droplets rolling down my cheeks.

“Are you okay?”

The voice asks again, and this time I lift my gaze to see who it is.

Gold pendant. Black ink. Stubbled jawline. Brown eyes.

I look him over twice.

I know him, he was there the night my sister leaped to her death.

Chapter Two

DECIDEDLY, I AM NOT Agood man. Because when I look at the Romano girl standing before me with her hands on her knees, panting her way through a panic attack, the first thing I think isshe’s even prettier than she was three years ago. Which seems like a shitty thing to think about a girl who is on the verge of crying.

“Are you okay?” I ask, and finally those hazel eyes rise to look at me. I see the flecks of gold dancing in her vision, fucking beautiful, just like that last time I saw her.

Apparently, I have a penchant for finding her at the worst moments. I think back to the last time I talked to her. She was in the midst of a spiral, her arms wrapped around her knees, her breathing uneven. I asked her the same question then too.

I felt stupid immediately after the words left my lips. She probably wasn’t okay, considering the tragedy she had just seen, but still I asked the question.

“Fine,” she breathes out. “I’m fine.”

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