My eyes close as I drop my forehead to his chest.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
Bane lifts my chin up with a finger before he leans in to kiss me.
“Take as much time as you need,” he murmurs. “I’ll be in the car.”
I watch him walk away, then turn to give my sister my full attention. I lift the bouquet of roses in my hand and smile awkwardly at her resting place before I kneel and place them against the headstone.
“Well,fuck,” I sigh. “This turned into a whole soap opera, didn’t it?”
I put my hand out and rest my palm on the smooth marble with the carved lettering.
Lark Imogen Peltier.
“I’m sorry,” I choke quietly, my brow furrowing. “I’m sorry for taking him.”
My eyes close, and a single tear trickles down my cheek as I lean close and kiss the top of her stone.
“But thank you,” I add, smiling as happy tears start to fall. “Thank you for him.”
Between grief and joy, pain and relief.
That’s where I meet my sister’s spirit.
With a tear and a smile, and love in my heart.
36
DOVE
It’shard to go back to normal after your sense of “normal” is shredded into a million pieces and sent scattering to the four winds.
There are still so many fucking questions. So much pain and confusion.
But Bane is right: the world keeps turning. We keep breathing. We choose to live over the opposite, day after day, until it’s not a conscious choice you have to make anymore.
You just get up, try your best, and keep on living.
So that’s what I do.
It’s not like I’ve got nothing on my plate. There’s the ongoing investigation, which is terrifying. But I’ve got the best lawyers in New York—arguably some of the best on the planet—in my corner. That's comforting.
Taylor Crown is aboss. She’s tough, super smart, and not fucking around one bit when it comes to my case. FumiYamaguchi, AKA the First Lady of New York, prides herself on having “pro-level cunt energy” against opposition counsel.
I like them. A lot.
There’s also ballet, and the additional hours I’m putting in to be ready for the gala showcase, especially after I missed two freaking weeks in the studio.God, I was sore the next morning after my first day back.
And then there’s my mental state. The waking up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, trying to make myself remember details that I simply can’t.
Did Ihave anything to do with the carriage house explosion that could have killed Felicity? Did I slit Lorenzo Cielo's throat?
It helps that when I do wake up to those nightmare thoughts, it’s in Bane’s arms. I have no idea what I’d do if I didn’t have him to hold onto in all of this.
Dr. Turov has been ahugehelp, too. I’m seeing her three times a week, and we’re slowly ramping back my meds.
I don’t know if it’s a placebo effect or not, but it truly does feel like it’s helping. I have a clearer sense of real versus imagined, almost like someone’s finally cleaned my eyeglasses properly so I see the world with clarity.
