Page 92 of Atone

Her questions stutter as she scans Mila’s outfit.

“Oh my god.” All color drains from Patience’s face.

“I can explain.” Mila makes a move to walk over to my sister, but I snag her hand when she’s within reach, stopping her.

Silently answering my sister’s question by lacing my fingers through Mila’s. Her entire body tenses against my side, but if she considers pulling away, she doesn’t.

“When did this happen?” Patience slams the car door, her face unreadable. “Howdid this happen?”

“I didn’t mean for you to find out like this.” Mila’s palm is sweaty with her nerves. “When Alex was in Montgomery?—”

“This started while he was in the psychiatric ward?” My sister cuts Mila off.

“It wasn’t like that then.”

“But it is now?”

“It’s just—” Mila closes her eyes, trying to steady her breath. “Everyone was gone. Alex was here. We started spending time together, and it just happened.”

“He’s my brother.”

“I know. And I’m sorry about that. But it doesn’t change how I feel about him.”

“How do you feel about him?” Her eyes narrow.

Under the moonlight, Patience’s white-blonde hair practically glows. The sheen of sweat on her forehead shines. It’s the middle of summer, but she’s wearing jeans and a three-quarter sleeve shirt to hide the scars on her knees and elbows.

Mila glances up at me, her lips purse as she searches for the right answer. And I find myself waiting like Patience,wanting to know the truth. How does Mila feel about me? I know how I feel about her.

Overwhelmed.

Fascinated.

Obsessed.

I’ve spent years training myself to be numb, but I feel everything when it comes to this girl. Good and bad. Mostly bad, at the moment, when Mila hesitates.

I release her hand to tip her chin up, tracing the line of her jaw and focusing on the crease between her eyebrows. It could be reality sinking in, or that she’s been questioning us since I admitted my continued dedication to the House, but the fact that she can’t come up with a quick answer to Patience’s question makes it impossible to swallow.

Difficult to breathe.

How does she feel about me?

After the trial, I didn’t speak because of the effects of the seizure. Then, I didn’t speak because my silence was a way to protect myself.

Truth can be taken out of context. Words are so easily turned around.

I swallowed my voice, and that was that. It was simple.

But then Mila walked into my life and changed everything.

Which is why, even as she debates her answer, I decide to save her the trouble. For her, I’ll do anything.

“You don’t need to explain yourself to anyone.” I brush my thumb up over Mila’s lower lip, dropping my hand and turning to my sister. “If you have any questions about my relationship with Mila, feel free to interrogate me, sis.”

If there was any color left in Patience’s cheeks, it drains. Her mouth slackens as her eyes widen.

Patience blinks, and her eyes gloss over. “You’re?—”

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