Page 118 of When the Storm Breaks

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“I looked it up once.” My voice is quieter now. Strained. “What happens when someone goes missing in the woods.”

I shake my head, trying to force the rest out.

“At first, they panic. They walk in circles, fast, because their brain won’t let them stop—won’t let them accept that they’re lost.”

A breath.

“They get exhausted. The cold slows them down, but they don’t feel it yet. Their body starts pulling water from their muscles… their brain. They get dizzy. Disoriented.”

My throat works a swallow.

“Then comes the cold. Hands go numb. Feet stop working. The body tries to protect itself—pulls all the warmth. But—” I drag a hand down my face, exhaling. “—it tricks them. Makes them think they’re warm. They take off their clothes like they’re overheating. Their own body betrays them.”

A beat of silence.

“At the end… people start hallucinating. Talking to people who aren’t there. Seeing things. Crawling into small spaces like…”

I swallow hard.

“Like they’re trying to go home.”

My jaw clenches.

My hands curl into fists, fighting off the wave that feels like it’s about to overtake me.

“Sometimes I wonder if she was calling out for me. If she was talking to me, and I just didn’t hear it.”

A breath.

“She didn’t even deserve it. She didn’t deserve to die like that.”

My fingers twitch uncontrollably at my sides. I should stop. Shove this moment back where it belongs.

But—

“People always joke about twin telepathy. But no one ever talks about what happens when you lose the other half.”

Beside me, Calla sucks in a breath.

I exhale, dragging a hand down the front of my neck.

“I got this stupid fucking tattoo after she died.” My voice is rough. Scraped raw.

“It was supposed to be a willow leaf.” I scoff, shaking my head. “She always said tattoos should mean something. I thought this would.”

My hands ball into fists.

“But I couldn’t even finish it. Couldn’t—”

Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.

For a second, I think I’m about to throw up.

Pass out.

Maybe both.

It starts as a pressure behind my ribs—tight, creeping.

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