I really wonder how I didn’t notice before. Now that I really think about it, the resemblances were always there. Kym has the same sharp jawline as Will, the same sharp features in general. A nose that possesses a certain proud tilt, freakishly pale skin, and eyes that hold a depth I can now recognize in both of them. The eyes, despite being a completely different colour, have a similar siren shape. Beautiful, yes, but there’s something else there too. A depth, a darkness that lingers beneath their surface. A darkness that is quick to disappear if you’re not paying attention.
“Oh, what a lovely name!” Lilia chirps, ever the optimist. But the table falls silent, the atmosphere shifting as everyone else processes the revelation.
Lilia’s gaze flits between us, her cheerfulness from earlier faltering. She looks back at Kym, who meets her with a blank stare. Then, suddenly, something seems to dawn on her. “Oh,” she says, her voice softening. “Oh, you poor thing.”
Kym doesn’t respond, her face unreadable.
“Wait,” Bea speaks up, her tone sharper. “But you said he’s older?” A question I’d been wondering myself. How is it that they’re in the same year? They clearly aren’t twins like Paris and Berlin.
“I’m sixteen,” Kym says, her voice regaining some of its steadiness. “I’m in first year, but I’m taking Maths a year early.”
The table collectively freezes.
I knew she looked a bit younger. But sixteen? Woah, this girl must be some kind of prodigy. And I’m shocked, not only because of how extraordinary she is, but also because I’ve never met someone so mature at such a young age. From the way shesits, to the way she carries herself—it’s so poised. Perfect. I can’t help but wonder what happened to her to make her this way.
I’m no fool, I know maturity can come from damage too. I once read that some people learn to swim through storms because they were thrown into deep waters too soon. Others drown. Kym looks like someone who’s been swimming for a long, long time.
See, in this world there are two kinds of people. People who learn to swim under these circumstances, like Kym. And people who drown, people like me.
How many times can a person break before they’re just dust?
“Wow,” I breathe, unable to stop myself.
“Omg, that’s crazy. So, you’re, like, super smart then?” Lilia says her eyes wide with admiration.
Kym doesn’t respond immediately, her focus drifting to some invisible point beyond us. “Something like that.” Kym shrugs, but there’s the faintest hint of a smile tugging at her lips. It’s small, but it’s there.
And we talk, and talk, and talk. About everything, and nothing at all. And I’m laughing through it all, because it’s the most fun I’ve had in months.
THIRTEEN
Rule Number Ten ofAdeline’s Guide to Overcoming Loneliness:Adeline, remember you aren’t truly alone. Somewhere, someone is holding your story in their heart—you just haven’t met them yet. There are people out there waiting to know you, there are others who will simply understand you. Trust that the path forward is brighter than what you can see right now.
I leave lunch early. Not just because I can’t afford it—though that is reason enough—but because the stares and whispers seem louder than my own thoughts at this point. If what they’re trying to remind me of is that I don’t belong, then they don’t even need to bother. Unfortunately for me, I’m fully aware.
As I walk toward my locker, I feel it—the weight of someone’s stare pressing into my back. I don’t need to turn to know who it is, but I do anyway.
Naomi.
The anger currently etched into her face is a language I know too well. A familiar story she’s ready to tell again, except I already know the ending. My stomach knots. My pulse quickens.
What did I do now?
“You know it’s funny how you seem to have no problem using your friends’ money for yourself when you give us almost nothing. What about me? What about Sam? It feels like you’renot even trying.” She speaks calmly, but the irritation is blatantly clear.
I open my mouth to interject, to tell her I have no idea what she’s talking about. That I haven’t eaten anything. But she doesn’t even give me a chance. I have no room to breathe, let alone speak. And honestly, all it’s doing is making me more and more frustrated with every bit of nonsense she spurts.
And then it happens. Something inside me cracks, completely snaps, to the point I don’t even recognize myself.
“What about me?” My voice shakes as the words tumble out. “No, Naomi, what aboutme?What about your youngest sister who has given everything to you? I mean I’ve given you my wholelife! And I don’t even get a thank-you. I get nothing. So don’t you dare—don’t youdaretry to overlook everything I’ve done for this family.”
The words spill out faster now, and yet I know it’s no use. She’s always been blind. Tears blur my vision, but I don’t care. I’m too far gone to stop.
“I kept this family alive,” I continue, my voice quivering with pure anger. “I put food on the table. Not you. Not Sam. Not even Mum.Me, I did it.”
The silence that follows is deafening. Naomi stares at me, her confidence shattered, her mouth slightly open as if searching for a response. And for a fleeting moment, I think I’ve gotten through to her.
But then the truth hits me, right in the face. Slicing straight through any splinter of fragile hope I had. So much, I almost curse myself for having it in the first place. Hope is a cruel thing though—not so easy to escape either. Always staying just far enough ahead that you can never quite catch it, but close enough that you keep trying.
