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“I don’t. Especially not about this. Not because of the stupid smell . . . or the memories.”

I didn’t need to be reminded. We’d always been together on Christmas. Even if Mom was working, the four of us would be together and cook her dinner and wait for gifts. We did it all. We baked cookies, hid little bottles of liquor in my brother’s stockings, and watched holiday movies. Presley loved a good Hallmark movie. He even got us matching pajamas to watch them in.

“I can’t be here. It’s too much.” I looked at my brother, pleading.

“Let’s go. Fuck this place and the holidays.”

I nodded as he put his arm around me and steered me away from the square.

Christmas was my favorite. Sarah’s too.

We left on the last boat out for the day, but when we arrived back on the island, I had my mind set on one place I needed to go.

“I have something I need to do.”

Zach followed me along the cobblestones to the old fountain Connell had shown me.

I reached into my pocket and grabbed my silver object. The only object I always kept on me. One of Sarah’s silver butterfly necklaces. The one she’d given me before she’d left for college. To remind me “to not forget to keep moving forward.” It was her favorite. The one her grandmother had given her. She loaned itto me, claiming I needed its luck more than her. I’d wished that were true.

I never thought I’d part with that necklace, but its luck could be enough to get us out.

“Why do you like butterflies so much?” I’d asked Sarah once in her bedroom. She had stars on her ceilings but paper butterflies that fluttered next to her window.

“They make me happy. Every time I see one in the garden, they make me want to run away with them. They’re free to roam wherever they wish. It’s full of possibilities.”

I rubbed the pendant between my thumb and index finger while Zach waited.

Don’t be afraid to dream. Don’t be afraid to believe in the best possible outcome. Please. Whoever is listening. Let this work. Let us go home. That’s all I want. For us to be together again.

I gave the necklace one final squeeze before chucking it into the murky water and watching it sink.

A singular glint of silver fell to the bottom of the basin.

“You good?” Zach said.

“Yeah, I’m good.”

Dear Luke and Zach(Come on. Read the letter, bro),

I keep thinking you’re going to walk through the front door. Kinda like you used to do back at Mom’s place when you’d surprise us on a random Friday night. You’d bring fancy pizza(anyone else miss stuffed crust?) and we’d play games. Fridays were my favorite after you both moved.

I try to imagine what you might be doing, but I have no clue. Sometimes I imagine you both as secret agents or in some remote jungle on an adventure. Or on a beach somewhere sipping beers. I like to think that you’re happy. But I know that’s not true.

I’m kinda thankful for Akira’s blood. Because without it, I’d have never known you were this miserable all the time. You were both scary good at hiding it. I mean, I knew you struggled, but this feeling is the worst. And it gets worse every single day. Why didn’t you say anything? You were great at keeping my secrets. I could have been good at keeping yours. I could have helped you more.

There is this small part of me that wonders if you really wanted to leave. Like you didn’t want to be here with us and you’d rather be there. I know you planned to go back because of Kilian, but that wasn’t always the case, right? For a minute there, you wanted us all to escape together? Maybe vampire-cult life is way more interesting than hanging around here with us.

Crazy, I know.

Sorry to be such a sap, but every day here is so gloomy. There’s no sun ever.

I know you’re sad. If I were with you, I’d tell you a joke.

P.S. Don’t worry. I didn’t celebrate Christmas without you.

Love you forever,

Presley