Page 75 of Hidden Echoes

“Fine by me,” I shrug. It’s not like I have any interest in calling my brothers and announcing it. I avoid my brothers. I intend to keep it that way. I turn away, but Audrey keeps her hold on me.

“Don’t be a complete stranger, they miss you, you know that?” Audrey says in a tone that almost reminds me of the sweet little girl she once was.

“I'm busy.”

“I think Kyle and Abby will end up getting married soon, it's just a matter of time before they come out for good.”

“I'm happy for them.”

“Zane.”

“Hm,” I say, not wanting to look her in the eye, because that means my past. And I have no interest in my past.

“They love you. Abby still listens to that KPOP group you like and talks about you. Every time. Your sister is still the same heartless bitch, I refuse to talk about her,” she points out and I laugh and then she turns to me. “I know Kyle misses you, I’m not that close to him. But, he hasn’t been the same since you left.” No wonder I'm her favorite Hill. She hates my sister and everyone is scared of Kyle, so that leaves me.

I miss them too.

But it doesn't matter.

Because I can't go back there, not without feeling like I'm dying inside.

CHAPTER 18

ZANE

PAST

The abandoned tunnel was my refuge—one of those places no one cared to keep standing anymore, but that made perfect sense to me. When things at home got unbearable, I came here. The silence, the smell of rust and damp concrete, the way the streetlights barely reached the entrance… it was the perfect place to think. No one bothered me here.

Until that night.

I wasn’t alone.

She was curled up against the wall, hidden in the shadows. For a second, I thought she wasn’t real—just a trick of my tired mind. But then her eyes caught the faint glow from the tunnel entrance. Wide. Frightened.

I stopped in my tracks.

“You okay?” My voice was quiet, careful. No threat.

She didn’t answer. Just kept staring, as if waiting for me to lunge at her.

She asked if I was real, but now I wonder if I just imagined her voice—because she’s staring at me, refusing to say another word.

Slowly, I raised my hands, showing I wasn’t here to hurt her. “I’m sorry, I… do you need help?”

She stayed silent, but something in my tone must have made a difference. Her shoulders loosened just a little. Still, she shook her head.

I exhaled, running a hand through my hair. I knew that feeling—the tightness in your chest, the desperate need to be invisible. So I didn’t press.

Instead, I reached into my pocket, pulling out the sandwich Taylor had packed for me earlier. Chicken. She knew I liked it better than tuna. My sister liked to act like she didn’t care about much, but she noticed the little things.

I held it out.

She snatched it without hesitation, eating so fast it was like she expected someone to rip it from her hands. Her fingers—thin, dirty—clutched the bread tight as she chewed too quickly to even taste it.

I didn’t look away, but I made sure not to stare. Didn’t want her feeling even more cornered.

She made no sound except for the ragged breaths between bites, the muffled noises of food being swallowed. No murmur of thanks. No sigh of relief. Just silence.

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