“No,” she said sharply, moving toward him, pain flooding back into her voice. “No.” She lifted a finger between them, shaking her head. “I know you weren’t expecting Blair. And I know you have things you want to say to her—but no.”
Her voice wavered, thick with emotion, though I didn’t look at her face to confirm it. “Because right now,” she continued, her words trembling but firm, “you’re going to be honest with me, Austin.”
She stopped directly in front of him.
“And you’re going to be honest about all of it.”
21:A
I could feel the way my features had frozen, glued into an expression of shock. I had expected Seren to be here. I had expected Zane to be here.
But I certainly hadn’t expected Blair. She was scared. I could see it written all over her face, in the tension around her eyes, in the way her body seemed pulled inward. I assumed I knew why. Only hours ago, Seren and Zane had watched me being led into a police car. Clearly, they had told her what happened. The thought sent a sudden flare of anger through my stomach. She didn’t need to be involved in this. She didn’t need to carry any part of it.
But as my eyes swept the room again, something else registered. Seren and Zane weren’t relieved. They should have been. I had expected relief at the sight of me standing there, back home, free for the night at least. Instead, there was something sharp in their expressions. Something tight. Accusatory.
“No.” Seren charged toward me before I could even open my mouth. I stopped short at the sound of her voice. The pain in it was chilling, so raw it made my chest constrict.
My eyes immediately scanned her, instinctively checking for injury. I looked her over the way I always did when something felt wrong, searching for signs of damage. But the injuries I feared Seren might be carrying would never leave visible marks. At least not on her body. Her wounds lived somewhere deeper, somewhere hidden from anyone who didn’t know her the way I did. And I did know her.
“No,” she said again, her voice trembling but firm. My brows drew together instinctively. “I know you weren’t expecting Blair, and I know you have things you want to say to her—but no.”
“What?” I asked, completely lost.
I had no idea what she meant, but the way she said it unsettled me. I had given Seren everything I had to give, except my honesty. That was the one thing I had always kept locked away. There was a time when I hoped I’d never have to give her that. Not about the past. Not about the things I had done. But lately, it felt inevitable. Like the lies were always meant to break free eventually. They already had, at least with Blair.
But telling Seren was different. It wasn’t that it mattered more—it was that it cost more. There was too much weight attached to the truth where she was concerned. Too much history. Too much trust. Too much to lose. I had never been worried that Seren would completely discard our friendship. Seren wasn’t that kind of person. But would she look at me the same way? Would I still be the same Austin in her eyes? That… that was what I was afraid of. Seren had always looked at me as light, despite everything she already knew about me. I wanted to be that light for as long as I could. The thought of losing that version of myself, the version she believed in, settled heavy in my chest.
I glanced at Blair for the first time since Seren had spoken. She didn’t just look scared anymore. She looked conflicted. And she didn’t look surprised, the way I expected her to after Seren’s words. She looked like she knew exactly what everyone was talking about. I took a breath, unsure of what to say next. I felt split straight down the middle. Part of me wanted to understand what Seren meant, wanted to make sure she was okay. The other part of me was pulled toward Blair with a force I didn’t understand. Like gravity. Like I was magnetized to her.
The last time I’d seen Blair, she’d felt unrecognizable. Like a stranger wearing her face. I had never expected that from her, and I carried that unfamiliarity with me for days after she wasadmitted into the program. The longer I sat with those feelings, the more I realized they were my own creation. I had once told her that Blair was the moon, only reflecting the light given to her. And if there was no light, at least none she could see, it made sense that the night would feel dark.
The truth was, I had idolized her. I had pinned my need for lightness onto her, turned her into something impossible. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t real. It was a false reality I had built on my own. But like I had told her, that didn’t matter anymore. If there was no light for her to reflect, I would help her find it. I would guide it. I would show her the sun—and if I couldn’t find the sun, then I’d show her the stars. If she would let me.
Blair met my gaze, and it felt like there were a thousand things sitting behind her eyes, waiting to be said. The room fell into a brief, heavy silence, everyone waiting to see who would speak next. I guess it was going to be Blair.
“Listen,” she sighed, taking a step forward. For a moment, I thought she was coming toward me. Then I realized she wasn’t. She was heading for the door. And I was standing in front of it. “I… this is between you guys,” Blair said gently.
She offered Seren a small, soft smile as she passed, like she was trying to reassure her without words. She opened her mouth again, like there was more she wanted to say, but nothing came out. She stopped when she was only a foot away from me. I wasn’t sure what I expected to see when she looked up at me. I was afraid it would be the same look she’d given me when I told her the truth about who I was. But she didn’t look at me like that. The look in her eyes wasn’t bright yellow, not like before, but it wasn’t grey either. It was something in between.
“I’ll call you later,” she said quietly. “Okay?” For a second, I got lost in the sound of her voice. Gentle. Familiar. Enough to makeme forget everything else that was happening. Just for a second. Then she walked out the front door, and the latch clicked behind her. And I remembered.
“Austin.” Seren’s voice snapped my attention back to her.
“What is going on?” I asked, lifting my eyebrows as I moved past where she stood, rigid and defensive.
“So,” she said shakily. I stopped immediately. “Are you going to jail for killing Jax,” she continued, her voice trembling but sharp, “or just for letting him die?” My stomach dropped like it was made of lead sinking into shallow water.
“Seren,” Zane muttered, shaking his head at the cruelty in her tone.
“What?” she scoffed, not even turning to look at him.
“What are you talking about?” I asked, though my eyes betrayed me, skirting away from hers. Panic surged through my already heightened senses. My heart began to race as I tried to understand exactly what she was accusing me of.
“Blair told me.” I didn’t respond, but my silence answered for me.
She nodded, watching my expression, the one I was desperately trying to keep neutral. “She told me what happened the night of the accident,” Seren continued.
I felt sick. Sick and terrified. There was one thing I knew about Seren, above all else: she wasn’t simple. She was the furthest thing from it. Her mind was one of the most complex things I had ever known, capable of holding contradictions without breaking. She carried relief over Jax’s death. And she carried pain. So whether or not I wanted to face it, whether I had meant to or not, I had caused that pain.
