Page 72 of The Devils They Are

Never in my life had I been unable to find a solution to a problem. Then she died. And it was beyond even me. It was a cold reminder that I had nothing in comparison to others, and for the first time, I was scared.

But I was also mad at Rylan. He was a huge part of my guilt, even if he didn't know it. I should never have been with him that night, never let myself give in to impulses and desires that made zero sense. And then he went snooping where he didn't belong.

How did he even know? He hasn't denied it.

"How?" I ask, voice cracking. "How did you find out?"

"Does it matter?" he challenges, taking a step back. His eyes are dark, locked on mine.

Shaking my head, I swallow the lump in my throat. "I'm going to make them refund it. I can't take your money, Rylan."

"Whatever," he responds monotonously. "Maybe you can do a funeral at your shitty little beach. Fire is free. Use the leftover material from the cage. It's been replaced now anyway."

He walks over to the bed, leaning down to pull something out from underneath. I watch, puzzled, when he stalks back over, thrusting the plastic bag into my arms.

Glancing down, it takes me a few seconds to realize I'm holding Mom's stuff. My mouth falls open as tears well in my eyes, and it takes every bit of fight in me not to let them fall. But I quickly fail, feeling the hot streaks glide down my cheeks.

"How did you get this?"

"I went looking," he snaps. "Because I was worried. But I was wrong to think you'd actually have the decency to be my friend."

A million words threaten to come out, but at the same time, I'm physically incapable of speaking. My eyes scan the floor, taking in the ruins of our argument, and I carefully put Mom's stuff on the floor, walking over to the tipped-up desk.

I pick it up, standing it back upright before reaching for his laptop. Dusting it off, I'm relieved to find it working as I place it back on the desk.

As I continue to collect the belongings off the floor, Rylan stands there wordlessly, just watching as his body remains tense and rigid with silent anger.

When there's nothing left but the coffee spill, I glance around for a rag or something, but Rylan's cracked voice stops me.

"I need you to go, Spencer. Now. Just go."

"Alright," I concede softly, pausing as I once again spot my handprint on his face. Something tries to compel me to apologize, but I choke on the words—they mean nothing right now. We've said all that we can, and it's not enough.

It will never be enough.

Not in this lifetime.

I'm the villain today. I let my sadness become my downfall. I've become everything I always hated.

Rylan refuses to look at me now, and the tension in the room is so thick, I feel like I could suffocate. And if I'm being honest, part of me wishes I could just die right now. It's a small part, still somewhat insignificant to the rest of the overwhelming feelings choking me… but it's there. Another moment of self-pity as his words cut deep like a knife.

I'm alone… because I made it that way.

Finally, I relent, turning on my heel and making my way toward the door. When I reach the doorway, I dare a glance over my shoulder at him, heart breaking as he leans over the desk, palms flat with his head hung low.

He looks just as broken as I feel, and I despise myself for being the one who did that. But it's his fault as much as my own for letting things get this far. It feels like a fitting goodbye—an ending to our short story.

Violent. Broken. Catastrophic.

Two ruined kingdoms realizing that the world is bigger than they can face. And the guilt is what drags me out the door and holds me back from running to him.

My footsteps echo softly through his house, more tears falling as I make my way outside. Thankfully, Mayor Astor is nowhere to be seen. And Rylan certainly doesn't try to stop me as I leave.

Whatever was growing between us is dead.

I made sure of it.

By the time I arrive for Algebra, I'm frustrated to find that the only available seat is next to Tai. Just my luck that we're desk neighbors in two classes. I swear he wasn't in this class initially. But at this point, I'm questioning my own sanity. The days are shifting into blurs, unrecognizable as I go through the motions with a fake smile.

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