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Glancing down at my phone. My heart leaps at the sight of those three little dots pulsing on the screen. After days of silence, she’s finally reaching out.

She’s typing.

Come on, princess. Don’t leave me hanging.

The dots disappear. No message appears.

Fuck that. I tried the nice way, but she obviously didn’t want that.

Chapter 12

Lilian

I jolt awake, gasping for air and drenched in sweat. The images fade, but a heaviness lingers in my stomach. Since the night in the bathroom, sleep has eluded me at night, and when I do manage to catch a few minutes of rest, it’s invaded by nightmares.

I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up. I’m running on fumes, and I’m afraid that if I don’t get some rest soon, I’ll crash and burn. And that is terrifying, but so is the thought of what might be waiting for me in my dreams. Red, always red.

I rub my temples, massaging the tension away, and glance at the clock. I have less than an hour before the next class, but the thought of facing a room full of sewing machines sends a chill through me.

I shouldn’t have enrolled. It’s a pathetic attempt to find out what it is that makes me panic about them.

My phone buzzes, and I click on the message.

Jason: I’m almost there.

I switch to the chat with Sebastian. The one I didn’t answer yet.

An image of him flashes behind my eyes, his strong hands around me and my body against his.

I bite my lip.

Am I fooling myself into thinking he wants something more?

I don’t know how to respond.

Dropping my phone onto the bed, I walk to the bathroom. I should shower and get ready before Jason arrives.

I pause at the mirror. My eyes are sunken, shadowed by dark circles, my face is pale, my lips dry, and my hair hangs limply around my shoulders. I look exhausted, and I am.

A yawn escapes my lips, and I splash cold water on my face. It’s not working. I’m so tired. The nightmares have been relentless lately, more vivid. As if they were punishing me for forgetting about them.

Sebastian made them go away.

The therapists said my nightmares are my subconscious, refusing to accept my parents’ death. Levi, my other brother, says trauma can manifest in strange ways, and being alone in that big mansion as a little kid while my parents lay dead in their wrecked car for no one to find till morning certainly qualifies.

Would it have been different if someone found them sooner? If I hadn’t been left alone for so long in the dark,waiting, not understanding why they never came home? Levi mentioned Mom’s obsession with red fabrics—is that why it’s always red in my dreams, staining everything like blood? But still… I can’t remember any of it. Fragments. Everything else I know is from what Uncle Marc, Landon, and Levi told me.

To be honest, I don’t even know if I want to remember. It’s easier not to miss them like this. This way, there is no pain, no grief for what I’ve lost. If I remember, it won’t just be the ache of abandonment but losing the two people I loved most in this world.

The thought of losing them again… I’m not ready. Not yet.

The shower does little to wash away the fatigue, but at least I’m clean. I dry my hair and style it into a ponytail, then change into my usual outfit—a plaid skirt and a sweater over my blouse.

I still look exhausted. Jason can’t see me like this, or he’ll report back to my brothers, and then it won’t take seconds until I’m back home. They promised to let me do this, but only if I’m well.

My phone buzzes again.

Jason: You even up yet? We’ll be late.

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