Page 25 of Seeking Shadows

“I would’ve done the same to your father if I hadn’t known it would come back around on us…” I almost say it—against you. Against my family.

But I don’t. I can’t let her know how deep this goes. I can’t let her understand just how much of me she’s bled into.

Instead, I pull myself back together, clinging to the only thing I can control: the silence.

CHAPTER 6

MIA

I wake up to thesound of birds singing—and grunting?

Wait. No. That’s me.

The birds are just out there living their best lives, and I’m here, groaning like a dying walrus because, apparently, existing is exhausting.

Why do they sound so cheerful at this ungodly hour? Who gave them permission?

I roll over, tangling myself in my blanket like some sort of discount burrito, and immediately regret all my life choices. The floor is cold. And unforgiving. But hey, at least I’m awake now.

After successfully detangling myself (it takes longer than I care to admit), I drag my zombie-like body into the shower, only to immediately forget whether I shampooed already. Twice. Maybe three times. My hair will just have to deal with the consequences.

Then, it’s time for skincare—a sacred ritual.

I slather on moisturizer like I’m coloring a masterpiece, only to realize I just put hair conditioner on my face.

Why am I like this?

Finally, I take a deep breath, stare at my reflection, and take my regularly scheduled five-minute break for an internal crisis.

Existential dread? Check.

Overanalyzing a conversation from five years ago—was it real or made up in my head? Check.

Debating whether I should fake my own disappearance and start a new life in the mountains? Double check.

Okay. Great. Now I can start my day.

I decide to color. Because I miss it. Because my life is spiraling and I have absolutely no control over anything, so I might as well pretend I do by organizing tiny pigments on a piece of paper.

Is my life a mess? Absolutely.

Can I do anything about it? Nope.

Am I pretending everything is fine? Of course.

I’m bored out of my mind. I told Seth I’d be traveling with Zane, which means I can’t be seen around here.

If he somehow finds me lurking in this region, I wouldn’t even know how to explain it. "Oh, hey, surprise! I actually lied and I’m just hiding out like some sketchy cryptid." Yeah, that wouldn’t go over well.

So, I color.

Everyone has their own coping mechanism. Some people work out, some people meditate, and some people bake cookies at 3 AM. Me? I grab my color pencil and try to make my brain shut up for five minutes.

Not like I can do anything about my messed-up past that perfectly matches my equally messed-up brain, or my future that—surprise!—also aligns with both.

It’s a pattern. An aesthetic, if you will.

I start getting lost in the process, coloring flowers this time, completely zoning out until my phone rings. I blink at the screen, and my twin brother’s name flashes there like some kind of divine summoning.

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