Page 72 of Where Broken Wings Fly

“Was he always artistic?”

“Oh, yes. They thought it would help him to cope, but we lost him to a whole new vice. At least when he was drinking, we still saw him. Now, nobody does. He’s too withdrawn.”

I think about the countless priceless sculptures and paintings that litter Micah’s studio, each more exquisite than the last. A love story to the richness of the world around him—a world that he’s too scared to see with his own eyes, for fear of it being ripped away.

It must feel more manageable for him to reduce it down to the safety of a lump of clay, the flick of a brush, something under his control which can’t hurt him. People die. Art lives forever. It’s the perfect, silent companion.

“Grams?”

The front door slams shut so loud, we both startle in shock and launch to our feet. I order Arianna to stay hidden and follow Lola out into the hallway, where frantic voices are yelling over the sound of hailstones.

“What are you two doing out in this storm?” Lola exclaims.

Killian and Zach are shaking rain from their wet hair, both looking wild with desperation as they stand just inside the entrance together. They’re soaked through, wearing their mud-streaked work clothes still.

“It’s Micah.” Killian wrings water from his long locks. “He didn’t come back from his hike yesterday. We just checked the studio for flooding and realised.”

“When did he leave?” Lola asks urgently.

“Yesterday afternoon, around four o’clock.” I earn myself three very surprised looks. “I uh, saw him on his way out.”

“Was he upset? Did something happen?” Killian barks at me.

I flinch. “We may have… you know, he was—”

“Just spit it out, Willow.”

“Kill,” Zach warns. “You need to calm down.”

“He could be seriously hurt!” Killian shouts at him. “I need to know what happened.”

Hugging my midsection, I blink away tears. “I guess, he might’ve been upset.”

Killian pins his cousin with an I told you so look that only makes me feel worse. I had no idea that Micah didn’t come back after he stormed away from me. If I wasn’t such a coward, I could have gone and checked on him.

“Why was he upset?” Zach questions more calmly.

“We… spoke. He stormed off.”

Killian’s gaze crackles across my skin, charring flesh and bone, until I’m retreating from him in fear. He’s forgone his human facade entirely today, opting for cold fury instead. I can’t stop myself from replaying his words from last week.

I didn’t mean to get someone hurt. Especially not Micah. I care about him too. Killian curses and marches back out into the storm before Lola can grab his arm.

“Where do you think you’re going?” she shouts after him.

“To find my stupid fucking cousin!” Killian yells over his shoulder. “He could get killed in this weather. I won’t leave him out there alone.”

“I’m coming,” Zach chimes in.

In a split second, I’ve made my decision. Grabbing the bright purple raincoat that I picked up in town, I throw it over my clothes and grab my leather boots.

“Me too. Let’s go and find him.”

“I hardly think so.” Lola fists a handful of my coat to prevent me from leaving. “You’re not going out in that storm. Leave this to the boys.”

“It’s my fault he’s out there in the first place!”

“Nonsense. Micah isn’t your responsibility.” She looks at Zach, her face stern. “Go with Killian and report back within an hour, or I’m calling mountain rescue. Got that?”

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