“I’ll say this and after that, we won’t need to speak again,” I say to the tiny plant, knowing he’s listening.
I’d prepared this speech. Ever since I agreed to come with Kacey today, I carefully curated what I would say to him, the lines so well-rehearsed from my sleepless night they should fall effortlessly.
“I’m doing this for Kacey. That’s it. I don’t want to talk. So, in the meantime, I’d appreciate it if we just ignored each other.”
The silence is… unbearable. Truly deafening. And the ache thrums with vengeance.
I wince, going slightly off-script to fill the quiet. “If it’s easier, you can stay in the Dark Realm.”
Then I pick up my newly potted plant and turn away from him, walking to the furthest planting table, because I need to take it to this one. Because that’s just where it needs to go.
Because I… I can’t be near him for another second.
But… he’s just there.
The ache doubles, triples, so fresh and sharp. I grip the edge of the table so hard the soil in my pot spills over.
Don’t look.
Don’t let him see the tremble in my hands.
Don’t let him hear the pained gasp I can’t contain.
Don’t let him near enough to feel.
But he doesn’t say a word. He lingers for a second, and then... gone.
He’s gone.
No!
No.
No…
I can’t stop the tear that falls, so I simply let it be.
Chapter 5: Ezekial
My brother hasn’t returned home.
We agreed, when the day had ended, we would all reconvene at the house and Kane would debrief us. I was hopeful he might even allow us access to the memory of it, just a chance to see her... but my brother is a wary man—private—even with us. His most trusted, the only people he’s ever let in. I know a verbal recount is the best we can hope for.
While we sit in silence around the dining table, I try again to dig deeper into my memories. Every day since I touched Jasmine’s rune, I’ve been clawing at the same fragment that surfaced—her on the ground, Prospero taking her away. But it always slips from me, like frayed, burnt film; I can only catch the same few seconds before I’m yanked back into consciousness.
When I open my eyes, I glare at my phone on the table, jaw tight. The memory still refuses to come, taunting me with the same useless scrap.
And now it’s midnight. Kane’s still blocking us. He still isn’t here.
“That’s it, I’m ringing Kace.” Sai reaches into his pocket, but Julien places a calm hand on his arm.
“He will come. Have patience,” Julien says. Sai pauses, then pulls his arm away. “We knew this would be challenging for him,” he adds. “Give him time.”
“A challenge? Forhim?” Sai snaps, scowling at Julien. “He’s spent the entire day with her. Poor Kane, what a fucking challenge. What a martyr!”
Julien glances at me, silently asking for back-up. I lean over the table, closer to Sai. “I know you’re worried, Sai. About both of them.”
His icy gaze latches onto me and the softening of his scowl reveals his truth. Of course he’s worried—about whatever’s happened today, what Jasmine might’ve said, what Kane might’ve done. But he’s also worried about Kane.
