Page 191 of Seeking Shadows

She shakes her head, her fingers digging into her arms. “No. You did what you thought was right. And I did what I thought was right.” She lets out a humorless laugh. “But what I thought was right… didn’t get me anywhere.”

Something about the way she says it unsettles me. There’s more to it. But Taylor has never been one to open up easily.

“I wanted to hate you forever,” she continues, staring at the ground. “But I don’t think I can anymore.”

My chest tightens even more. The last time we spoke, she told me she hated me. And for years, I thought her indifference had destroyed whatever was left between us.

Now, sitting next to me in the cemetery, she looks like a shadow of that girl.

"When I saw you in that cell," Taylor says, voice steady but tight, "all I could think about was how much time I wasted shutting you out. How my own damn pride kept me from seeing you. And that for a second—just a second—I could’ve lost you to this."

"Tay—"

"Shut up and let me finish."

Her eyes are burning, her jaw clenched like she's fighting herself, like she hates how much she cares but can’t help it.

"You're my brother, Zane. No matter what. And I will always have your back. I don't want to lose you again."

The words hit deeper than I expect. I smile, but it’s a little unsteady, and when I reach up to wipe the tear slipping down her cheek, my fingers hesitate. Taylor doesn’t cry.

Taylor barely acknowledges feelings, let alone lets them spill over.

Until she does—and when she does, it's usually to cause havoc. But this time is different. This time, she's letting herself be vulnerable.

"You won’t, sis," I say softly. "You’re way too loud to be ignored."

She snorts, but it’s weak, almost fragile.

"I love you," I add, meaning it more than I ever have before.

She takes a shaky breath, already pulling herself together, but I’m not done.

"And, Tay?"

She blinks at me.

"I never saw you as her."

Her head jerks slightly. "What?"

"You’re not our mother, Taylor. You never were. You never will be. You’re so much better than she ever could’ve been. And I need you to remember that, okay?"

She stares at me, something unreadable flickering behind her eyes. Then, just as quick, she shoves it down, like she always does, exhaling through her nose and rolling her shoulders back.

"Okay," she murmurs.

It’s not much. But it’s enough.

I sigh and run a hand over my face. “You don’t have to forgive me.”

She shrugs. “I guess I already did without realizing it.”

The silence between us is different now. Still heavy, but not suffocating.

I look at her, and for the first time in years, I see my sister.

“I missed you.” The words slip out before I can stop them.

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