No way.
This was my fucking book. I lost it in high school.
No fucking way.
I noticed it was missing the day after…
The realization landed like rocks in my gut. I’d lost it the day I met Grim.
No way he’d kept it.
Whydid he keep this?
Fuck.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
“Big Brother Grim,” a soft voice called out. “Have you seen the?—”
I turned to find a young girl frozen in the doorway. She stared at me like a deer caught in headlights. She was petite, with straight black hair. About sixteen or seventeen, she looked a little like Grim.
“Who are you?” she asked. “How did you get in here?”
“Who areyou?” I countered.
“I’mZabby.” She said it like I was supposed to know what that meant.
“Am I supposed to know what that means?”
“I’m Grim’s sister.”
I paused. I knew Grim had a sister, but the idea of the Horsemen with families still felt wrong, like the sun out at midnight.
She stepped closer, peering at me. “You don’t look like a murderer. But…that would make you a good murderer.”
“I’m not a murderer. It’s not my fault they didn’t tell you I’d be here.”
She huffed an exhale. “They don’t tell meanything. I’m not a little girl anymore, but they all still treat me that way.” She tilted her head, taking me and the room in, then a second later her face split in joy. “Oh,oh, you’reher! You’re the one he claimed.”
I rubbed the back of my neck, unsure what to say.
“I didn’t think they would do it,” she said. “Not after Vander.”
“Who is Vander—” I started to ask, but was cut off by a voice rough as nails.
“Sabrina,” Lock said. “Go.”
Lock stood behind Zabby—Sabrina—in the doorway.
Zabby spun. “You?—”
“Go,” Lock repeated.
She clenched her jaw. “You guys don’t tell me anything.” With one last look at me, she turned and left. Lock watched her go down the hallway, only turning back when the footfalls faded down the stairs.
“So…” I said. “Who’s Vander?”
Lock visibly tensed, but only said, “Go change.”
