Page 188 of Scattered Glitter

As I lay my sister down beside Ace, I start begging again. “Please, Rosie. Please.”

My vision is swimming, and I barely register the sound of the approaching sirens.

Not fast enough.

None of it is fast enough.

My people are gone.

I look at Ace and Rosie lying side by side.

I want to go with them.

My body gives out, and I collapse between them. With the last of my strength, I reach for Ace’s hand, my fingers trembling as they close around his. I stare into the sky as the world fades slowly into shadows, but at the last second, I reach for Rosalee and link my pinky finger with hers.

Focusing on our fragile connection, I turn my head toward her and make my final promise in a broken whisper. “From the cradle…”

Shouts, car doors slamming, and pounding footsteps.

Too late.

“… to the grave.”

Darkness swallows me whole.

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

Koen

Where the fuck am I?

I slowly wake and register that the bed is shaking, but I’m too disorientated to figure out what’s happening. I always sleep alone.

My eyes snap open, and in the dim light from the streetlamp, I register Glitter lying next to me. Then I remember the night before. Sitting up, I frown at how her face seems twisted in agony even as she sleeps. Her chest is rising and falling rapidly, and there are tear tracks down her face. Alarmed, I realize I can hear muffled, indistinct sounds coming from her parted lips, which is enough to tell me that she must be screaming.

I reach out and touch her arm. “Little Thief,” I murmur, my voice a low rumble in my ears. She doesn’t react, but her mouth makes different shapes now, but I can’t make out the words. I keep trying to read them, to find out what hell she’s reliving, but the pain on her face makes it difficult to focus. I catch a “please,” but it’s not enough.

“Wait,” I say, though I’m sure she can’t hear me. I fumble for my hearing aids on the nightstand, grabbingthem when my fingers brush against the cool plastic. I push them into my ears as fast as possible, the sounds around me sharpening as they come to life.

Moving closer to her, I brush my hand against her cheek, and finally, her eyes flutter open. Her gaze is unfocused as she gasps. “Koen.”

She reaches for me, grabbing at my shirt as she tries to pull herself closer to me. The way she says my name, there’s a level of pleading in it that goes beyond fear. It’s as if she’s drowning, and I’m the only life raft she has.

I try to steady her, thinking I might be able to ease her back into sleep, but then she rises onto her knees and throws her leg over my lap, straddling me in a whirlwind of movement. She wraps her arms around my neck and pleads against my shoulder, “Please, make it stop. I can’t. Koen, please, make it stop.”

My heart clenches painfully at her broken desperation, and for the first time, I think I see all of her. The fear, the vulnerability that runs bone deep. The pain that she hides when it clearly takes incredible strength just to be here, to eventry. The magnitude of it hits me, and I wrap my arms around her in turn, holding her to me.

Her sobs double the moment I do, and then she starts rocking her pelvis against me, her movements frantic as if I’m the only thing keeping her from falling apart. “Please, I need—” She cuts herself off, her breath hitching on a sob when she pulls back and seems to realize what she’s been doing.

We can’t have that. Not when she was already so brave.

“You’re safe,” I command, my voice lowering to that soft, reassuring tone I’ve used countless times—a trick I know well. “I’ve got you, and I’m not going anywhere.” Each word is designed to wrap around her, to pull her back from wherever her mind has taken her. Desperation radiatesoff her as she buries her head in my shoulder again and presses against me, seeking something,anything, to take away her pain. My hands tighten on her waist, my heart breaking at the sight of her like this. “Stop. Talk to me.”

Only, she doesn’t stop. Her hands move from behind my neck to my face, and she lifts her head again to look at me, her fingers trembling as she traces my jaw, her eyes filled with so much pain that it takes my breath away. “Koen, please,” she whispers. “I need you. I need…please.”

“I’m here, precious,” I say, my hands moving to cup her face. “I’m right here. Breathe for me, okay? Just breathe.”

She shakes her head, moving her soft skin against my palms just as another wracking sob overtakes her body. “I can’t,” she chokes out, squeezing her eyes shut. “I can’t. It hurts. Please, make it stop.”

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