Page 75 of Mostly Shattered

Anthony’s breath comes in short, ragged gasps, and his face contorts with pain.

“You let Paul die.” Conrad points upward, and the magic on Anthony’s neck tightens like a noose. “And now you’re going to watch Anthony die, too. You always fail, Tamara. Being human is what you’re good at.”

I move closer. I feel the magic shifting at my nearness. It’s drawing energy from everything in the room—not just Anthony.

Conrad appears across from me, his cold eyes locking with mine. “You’re not strong enough to save him. But you can end this, you know. You canmake a choice. A life for a life. You for him. Tell the labyrinth you’ll take his place.”

I feel the weight of the world bearing down on me, the magical threat pressing in, Conrad forcing my hand. The shackles around Anthony move with life, but this time, they quiver. The magic is waiting for me to decide.

Anthony doesn’t deserve this. We weren’t close growing up, but I’ve always loved him. There was always a bond, even when he was off at his fancy school, living in the world of magic that I could only dream about. He’s my brother, my blood.

My attention moves to Conrad, and my resolve wavers. I know who he is now—what he has become. The man in front of me isn’t the brother I used to trust. Yet, despite everything, there’s still that tug, that piece of me that clings to the version of him I grew up with, the one who shielded me from the crueler parts of our shared world. The one who kept me company when everyone else abandoned me to tutors and loneliness.

My mind flickers back to those days, to the way we whispered secrets to each other when no one was listening. He was my best friend, my companion. More than that—he was my protector, my brother. I trusted him with all my secrets. I trusted him with my fears, my hopes, all those little pieces of myself I never showed anyone else.

“Choose, Tamara,” Conrad whispers, a twisted smile curling his lips. “You or him.”

I try to feel that connection we once had—or that I thought we had. It was us against the supernatural world. So much about him is familiar, even though black erases his eyes and ash covers his skin. Even though I hate myself for it, there’s a part of me that still loves him, still wants to help him. Despite the malice in his smile, despite everything he’s done to me, I can still see the boy I loved. He has been so much of my life.

I’m so tired of pretending that everything is fine, that I can keep going, no matter what the world throws at me. But the truth is, I’m running out of steam. Each day feels like a new battle, and the weight of it all is crushing me, piece by piece. My defenses have been up for so long, but the cracks are showing. I hate that I feel like this. I hate that I can’t just keep it all together.

It’s not just Conrad or the constant threat of the supernatural. It’s everything—Paul’s death, the memory of what we had, the endless nightmares, and even the haunting presence of my family’s expectations. I’ve been trying to be strong for so long, but I feel like I’m at my breaking point. I want to give up, even though I swore I wouldn’t.

I loved Conrad and would have given my soul to help him. But that was then, and this is now.

I’m tired of crying, but the tears still come. I shake my head, trying to clear my thoughts, trying to remind myself of the truth. A cold realization settles over me, and I understand. The labyrinth wants me to decide. It’s testing my loyalty, testing whether I can make the impossible choice.

Conrad’s been so much of my life, whether or not I want to admit it. He’s shaped who I am in ways I didn’t even realize until it was too late. There’s an ache deep in my chest, a pull that refuses to go away. I don’t want to feel it. I shouldn’t feel it. But it’s there, the stubborn echo of something I once thought was real.

I want to hate him.

I want to wipe the smug look off his face. He thinks he’s won. I can’t remember the exact story, but my grandfather indicated that dark magic feeds on negative energy, on things like fear and betrayal. I always thought he was talking about monsters, but maybe it applies to people, too. Conrad is nothing if not a walking embodiment of all of that.

It should be easy. After everything he’s done—the lies, the murders, the betrayals—it should be the easiest thing in the world to let the labyrinth take him.

But it isn’t.

The boy I knew is long gone. But that doesn’t make it hurt any less. It doesn’t make the memoriesfade or the part of me that still wants to save him go away. I hate myself for it, for that sliver of hope that maybe, just maybe, he can be saved.

My eyes drift to Anthony, still struggling, the dark magic choking the life out of him. He never betrayed me. He’s never tried to twist the knife in the way Conrad has. He doesn’t deserve to suffer.

There is no choice.

“Take him,” I tell the labyrinth as I force myself to look Conrad in the eye, my voice steady now, even though the pain lingers in my chest. “Take Conrad.”

For a moment, the room goes silent. Even Conrad seems caught off guard. His smirk falters as the magic quivers and shifts focus.

Conrad’s eyes widen, a flash of anger crossing his face. “You think you can sacrifice me?”

“I’m sorry, but you left me no choice.” I step closer to him. “The magic wants negative energy, and you have more than enough to feed it.”

The hold on Anthony loosens as the dark energy withdraws from him to slither toward the ghost. The magic recognizes the darkness in him, latching onto it like a predator drawn to blood.

“You’ll pay for this,” Conrad snarls, his ghostly form flickering as the magic surges around him. “You’ll regret this, Tamara. I swear it.”

Conrad tries to disappear, but the magic takes hold. He screams as the shackles clamp down to feedon the darkest parts of him. I force myself to watch through the knot of guilt and regret wrenching my insides.

Conrad’s eyes darken, his face distorting in fury. I can see all the things he wants to say, but the threats never make it past his lips.

---