SIN
Time passed like static—days blurring into each other with a numb sort of rhythm, like my body remembered how to move even when my mind didn’t. Wake up. Breathe. Survive. Repeat.
I became an expert at avoidance. Sliding out of rooms seconds before Theo entered. Ducking down side halls. Refusing to look up. But my eyes betrayed me every time. Because I still watched him.
I watched him stand beside his father like a mannequin, every inch the heir. I watched Rosalie curl into his side like they were born to be photographed that way. I watched his eyes scan the room and never—not once—land on me.
And still, some warped, half-dead part of me hoped he’d turn around one day. Say my name and reach for me. But he didn’t. He never did.
“I’m fine,” I lied to Thalia one afternoon.
She didn’t dignify it with a response. Just elbowed me in the ribs hard enough to make me bite my tongue.
We were watching Theo trail behind his father like a good soldier. Rosalie draped herself around him, her blondhair catching the sunlight like a halo. She was the picture of cultivated grace. And I wanted to rip it all down with my teeth.
“He’s a puppet,” she muttered. “And you’re burning yourself alive, hoping he’ll smell the smoke and come running.”
I didn’t answer. I couldn’t—I’d start choking on the truth if I opened my mouth.
God. I made myself sick. I’d told him I wouldn’t wait. Yet here I was, a bleeding wound dressed up in my black staff uniform, praying he’d be the one to stitch me back together.
“Fuck my life,” I hissed, wiping a streak of sweat from my forehead with the back of my arm.
She looked at me, really looked, and something in her expression changed. “You need to get out of here, Sin. Before this place eats you alive.”
“You gonna miss me that much?”
“Don’t flatter yourself. You’re barely tolerable on good days.”
Declan barked out a laugh from somewhere behind us. “She dreams of a world without your emotional damage.”
“Eat shit,” I called back, trying to smirk, but my mouth barely moved.
Thalia’s gaze didn’t waver. “You’re bleeding out. And you’re too stubborn to admit it.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not.” She stepped in front of me. “And you don’t have to be.”
My throat burned. “I can’t leave yet.”
“Why?” she snapped. “Because you’re still hoping he’ll save you?”
I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. And that silence? That was my answer.
Thalia’s shoulders sagged. “Jesus, Sin. You were doing better before him. You were broken, sure, but you weren’t like this. Youwantedsomething. You tried.”
I turned away from her, grabbing the dolly loaded with gold chairs, hands shaking as I pushed it toward the marquee. “I still want something,” I said under my breath.
“What?” she pressed.
I didn’t answer. Because what I wanted was impossible. What I wanted was him.
She caught up. “Sin,” she said, quieter now. “You know I love you, right?”
I stopped moving. Let the chair dolly roll to a slow stop against the grass. “You’re the only one who ever has.”
Her breath hitched. “That’s not true.”
