I swallow hard. “I didn’twantyou to blame them. It was already difficult for you, Ethan. With Mom and Dad being gone, then losing me—it’s not like there was anything I could do. I thought if you didn’t resent them, things would be easier for you.”
He rubs his face with both hands, a sharp exhale from his lips. “How can I love them when they don’t love my sister?” He looks atme—really looks at me—desperate for an answer I don’t have. I still don’t understand how two adults with the means to support their son’s adopted child would choose not to. I still don’t get why blood matters so much to them when it bore no relevance to Dad.
I shake my head. “I’m sorry, Ethan. I only did what I thought was best for you. I planned to tell you eventually, but I thought it could wait. Until you were older. Until you could choose for yourself.”
“It’s not your fault,” he says, leaning against the wall. His shoulders slump, and he huffs out an insincere laugh. “I spent five years blaming you. I’m not doing it anymore.”
I playfully nudge him. “Well, that’s refreshing, isn’t it?”
He smiles, but it fades quickly, his expression turning solemn again. “Scarlett, I can’t live there anymore.” His voice is low, almost pleading. “I just… Ihatethem. They want to change me into the grandson they wish I was—maybe into Dad. But I’m nothing like him. I’m not a model student, I don’t like their friends, and I don’t want to go to boarding school in Virginia.”
“I know. I’ll do something about it.” I have no ideawhatto do, but I mean it. I’ll figure something out. I have to.
“They think I’m damaged. That there’s something wrong with me.” Tears slip out, though he seems to fight to keep them in. “I can’t feel like that anymore. I just can’t.”
“You’re not…” I pull him to me, holding him in a tight hug. Good God, he’s taller than me now. Taller than Dad was, too. “You’re not damaged or wrong. You’re yourself, and I love you. I wouldn’t change a single thing about you.”
He slightly pulls back, his gaze locking on mine. “I want to live here. With you.”
He…what? The world seems to tilt, and I stare at him, speechless. In the quiet, the faint chirping of crickets feels deafening. He watches me, waiting, and all I can think is I can’t deny this to him, no matter what it takes. I’m just not sure he realizes what he’s asking me to do.
His eyes fill with resolve. “Scarlett, I want you to be my legal guardian.”
the timeline collision[trope]
the pivotal moment in a rom-com when the present finally collides with that dramatic flash-forward we glimpsed at the beginning; cue the exact showdown and awkward confession, now unfolding with every bit of chaotic energy and dramatic flair we were promised
Hunting down a serial killer isnotas glamorous as they say. For one thing, my teeth have been chattering throughout the drive to the library, so now my jaw hurts. And once I finally got here and found the door had been forced open, I hid behind the shelves, squeezing my little pink Taser. I accumulated so much tension in my shoulders that I can actuallyfeelthe muscles cramping.
I tiptoe between the towering bookshelves, clutching the Taser like it’s a medieval sword. I really hope my heart doesn’t betray me by bursting out of my body entirely.
A faint rustling sound catches my attention, and I freeze mid-step. The noise comes again—somewhere in the far corner of the library. I inch forward, weaving through the shelves, my breaths shallow and my steps quieter. My palms are clammy around the Taser’s handle, and my breath feels obnoxiously loud in the silence.
Then I see him. He’s there, at the end of the aisle, all dark and brooding, with that stupid, soft, infuriatingly perfect hair.
It’s him. Rafael.
I can’t believe it’s Rafael.
Eyes closing, I try to push every single feeling down, the disappointment screaming so loud in my head it might just kill me, then peek out from behind the shelf. He’s still there, silently waiting like he has nowhere else to be. Meanwhile, I’m pretty sure I’m about to faint.
God, it’s really him.
I move forward, inching closer and closer until I’m right behind him. My heart’s hammering, and I can almost feel the electricity of the Taser pulsing in my hand. One more step, and I’ll have him.
My hand is poised to strike, but just as I’m about to make my move, he turns around with startling speed. His speckled gray eyes lock onto mine, and I see the recognition flicker in them. His hand moves in a blur, pulling a gun from his jacket and pointing it directly at my forehead.
Rafael has a fucking gun. And it’s not pink, either.
“Really?” I mutter, blinking at him. “Youhadto bring a gun?”
He arches an eyebrow, a half smirk that would be incredibly attractive if I wasn’t so busy internally screaming. He’s dressed in all black, the usual leather jacket worn and creased at the elbows, and under it, a fitted black turtleneck that clings to his broad frame.
“Were you planning on…stunningme with that?” He gestures to the Taser in my hand like I’ve just brought a rubber duck to a knife fight.
I glare at him, desperately trying to retain some level of dignity while simultaneously trying not to wet my pants. “I promise it won’t feel as pink as it looks.”
His eyes sparkle as he chuckles.Chuckles.Like this is all some grand joke. “You know, I had you pegged as smarter than this,” he says, his chin jerking down. “You lead me here and show up with that? What did you figure would happen next, exactly?”
