No matter how many times I come here, I’m still in awe. Every time.
We stop at a gate, a sleek iron one framed by tall stone pillars. Beyond it, I can already see the property, the long driveway leading up to the kind of mansion that shouldn’t even exist in real life.
And—is that a camera? I tilt my head slightly, staring directly at the beeping red light at its centre.
Fortunately, Kym’s sudden movement breaks me out of whatever trance I was in. Because I just now realize what the beeping light actually means. That someone was watching me gawking at the camera like a complete idiot.
Good work, Addie. You never fail to embarrass yourself at the most inconvenient times.
Kym steps up to the keypad, entering a code in.
2108
I was prepared to call someone, because the keypad had completely slipped my mind.
And Kai failed to mention it to me when I was here last time.
I blink at her, stunned. “Youstillremember the code?”
She doesn’t look at me. Doesn’t pause. Her fingers move smoothly over the numbers, like they’ve done this a thousand times before.
“I came here a lot,” she says simply.
I watch her, then the gate, then her again, trying to process this tiny revelation.
I shouldn’t bethatsurprised. Kym is Will’s sister, and Will has always been in this world. So that must mean Kym grew up here, too.
Though she doesn’t seem to have any ties to it anymore. She even introduced herself as Lawrence in class, so it’s clear she wants nothing to do with them.
Yet, she’s here? I did think it was strange when she agreed to come with me.
The gate groans as it swings open, revealing the sprawling property beyond. A long driveway, pristine hedges trimmed within an inch of their lives, lights casting an expensive kind of glow over everything.
The mansion itself looms in the distance, sleek, grand, and whollyridiculous.
I glance at Kym, lowering my voice. “You don’t talk to Will anymore, do you?”
Her face remains blank. “No.”
A pause.
“What happened?” I ask, softer this time.
“We lost contact a few years ago.” She says it so evenly, so carelessly. Like it doesn’t mean anything.
But it does.
I don’t push.
Because losing a brother—whether it’s by choice, by distance, or by something else entirely—is tough.
And now I feel even worse for bringing her here, for bringing herto him.
I slow my pace slightly. “Are you sure you’re okay being here?”
Kym doesn’t even blink. “I wouldn’t have come if I knew it’d be an issue.”
It’s said with such finality that Ialmostbelieve her. Almost because I’m not entirely convinced that there won’t be any issues.
