But then I looked at her.
Elena’s fingers were digging into the armrest now, her face pale, her eyes squeezed shut.
She really struggled with flying.
Another memory pulled at the back of my mind, one I hadn’t thought about in years.
She had wanted to hang out with us.
I don’t know why she even tried.
Troy and I had been climbing trees all summer, seeing who could climb higher and daring each other to take the risk.
She had been watching us that day, standing at the base of the tree with wide blue eyes, hesitating, but then—she started climbing.
She’d barely gotten halfway up before she froze.
“I— I can’t get down,” she called out, her voice trembling.
I remember Troy laughing, teasing her, calling her a baby, and telling her to jump.
But she wouldn’t move.
And instead of helping her, we’d left her there.
We didn’t mean to leave her there for so long. But when our parents called us inside for dinner, we forgot.
We sat at the table, eating and not realizing she wasn’t there—not until Dad asked where she was.
When we told them, our parents were pissed. We got grounded for two weeks. But that wasn’t what stuck with me. What stuck with me was how she looked at us after they got her down.
Like we had broken something.
She had been crying, begging for help, and we had ignored her.
I didn’t know why that bothered me.
But it did.
And I swore, after that, that I’d never feel anything for her again. That she would never be our sister. Troy and I had hooked pinkies like we always did when we made a promise to one another. It meant it was a sealed deal, and nothing could change it.
I looked at her now, her fingers still gripping the armrest.
She looked the same as she had back then—afraid, trapped, small.
And I fucking hated it. I hated those old feelings stirring inside me. I hated that I felt anything at all.
I clenched my jaw and forced my gaze away, staring at the seat in front of me.
Her problems weren’t mine.
Not now. Not ever.
I shoved my earbud back in, letting my audiobook drown everything else out.
Chapter 7
Elena