"I love you," Allegra said, voice muffled against shoulder. "Whatever's wrong, whatever happened on your trip or wherever you really went, I love you. You're my sister and I love you."
The tears came then, hot and sudden. Briar held her sister tighter, memorizing this, the simple pure love of a child who didn't understand and loved anyway.
"I love you too," Briar whispered into Allegra's hair. "So much. More than you'll ever know."
"Then why are you leaving?"
"Because I need to figure some things out. Adult things. Complicated things."
"I hate when you say that."
"I know." Briar pulled back enough to see Allegra's face, those bright eyes that held no trace of illness now. "But this isn't about you, okay? You didn’t do anything wrong. I just…this is about me needing space. It doesn't mean I don't love you."
"Will you visit?"
"Of course."
"Promise?"
Briar couldn't promise. She didn't know if she could keep coming back to this house, seeing the life she'd saved while mourning the one she'd lost. But Allegra was looking at her with such hope, such desperate need.
"I'll try," she said instead. "I'll really try."
Allegra hugged her once more, fierce and quick, then stepped back. "Okay. But I'm texting you every day and you better answer."
"Deal."
Briar climbed into her car and started the engine. In the side mirror she could see where Allegra stood on the sidewalk, shivering in just her sweater. Briar waited a moment, but Allegra didn't go inside. She stayed there, watching, as Briar pulled away from the curb.
She glanced in the rearview mirror and saw her sister wave. After a moment, Briar waved back, trying to match her sister’s enthusiasm, but coming up short.
Briar drove through town without thinking, muscle memory guiding her through turns while her mind stayed carefully blank. The streets blurred together, familiar landmarks she didn't want to recognize, memories she didn't want to acknowledge.
Then she saw the sign.
Sea Breeze Motel. The same faded turquoise paint. The same flickering neon with the "e" in Breeze dark. The same cracked asphalt parking lot.
If she had known she would end up back here, she might never have left to begin with.
Her hands turned the wheel without her permission.
The parking lot was nearly empty. Just a beat-up sedan and a motorcycle that had seen better days. No forest. No vines breaking through concrete. No impossible trees older than memory. Just an ugly motel that rented by the hour and didn't ask questions.
She sat in her car for a long moment, engine running, staring at the office door. The same door she'd burst through while running from Thaine. The same window where she'd seen the clerk wrapped in roots and white flowers, dreaming terrible dreams.
Her hand was on the gear shift to reverse when something made her turn off the engine instead.
The office smelled exactly the same—mildew and air freshener that didn't quite cover the underlying rot. But the clerk was different. Younger, maybe twenty, with gauged ears and tattoos creeping up his neck. He didn't look up from his phone when she entered.
"Forty-nine plus tax."
The same price. The same bored tone. Different voice.
"Room 23," she said.
That made him look up, a flicker of annoyance crossing his face. "I got eighteen available. Take your pick."
"I want 23."
