I barely breathed as I rushed across the room and flung it open.
There he was.
Too skinny and eyes sunken, but alive.
I threw my arms around my brother, and the tears I hadn’t realised I’d been saving up for him released from my eyes in a torrent. Even though he was the one trapped in hell for months, he held me close and murmured that it was all right, that we were all safe.
Except we weren’t all safe.
Oscar and Bash were safe, and that was what mattered more than anything else.
After an eternity and not nearly enough time had passed, I released Oscar and stepped back into my room, wiping my eyes.
I didn’t have to ask Oscar to close the door. Even though I’d received word that Inu had made it to the safe house and that they were all safe, it was another thing entirely to see my brother after fearing the worst.
“He’s safe? He’s–”
The words tumbled from my mouth impulsively, and I immediately knew I was the worst sister who ever lived. I should have asked how Oscar was and ten thousand more questions first.
“None of that, Rosie,” he said, rubbing the top of my head with his hand. “You are the reason we both are out of there. You don’t get to feel guilty about anything.”
He sat down next to my vanity and stretched out his legs, laying his head back and breathing in deeply.
“You don’t know how nice it is not to smell moldy piss,” he said. “Bash is fine. As your older brother, I feel the need to tell you that it is unsettling the way he wanted to be in there. You are the only reason he left because he was afraid of what kind of shit you’d gotten yourself into. Speaking of which, what kind of shit have you gotten yourself into?”
Despite the weight in my chest, I smiled and rubbed at my wrist, now covered by the light pink dress I wore.
“Nothing I can’t get myself out of,” I lied.
Oscar arched an eyebrow, and I was lucky he was too tired to press the issue. I didn’t want to talk about the price I paid for this moment. For now, I just wanted to enjoy the prize.
My throat was thick with what I needed to say. What I had been practicing for months. Now that the time was here, I hardly knew where to begin.
“Oscar,” I said, voice cracking on his name.
“Oh no, that sounds serious,” Oscar said, sitting up and folding his hands between his legs.
I swallowed, ignoring the burning in my eyes.
“Thank you for saving him.”
Oscar let out a long breath that almost felt like a relief, like he feared what I was going to say.
“He’s my friend, but you are my sister. Believe it or not, and please note that I barely believe it some days, I would do it again if it meant you stayed whole,” he said.
My chest heaved like it was about to break. Like just the mention of me being whole threatened to undo that glued-together porcelain I’d become.
“I don’t think I’m whole, Oscar,” I whispered. “I’ve done terrible things. I became something–I don’t think there’s redemption for it.”
Oscar stood and swayed only a moment before he gathered himself and kneeled before me, taking my hands in his. What a selfish person I was to be asking for comfort from him when he was the one who’d been in jail.
“Rosie, look at me,” he ordered, voice stern. “You are still my sister. You did what you needed to and did the least amount of harm you had to. I, for one, am grateful. I don’t know if there is a heaven, but I do know that it sounds fucking boring, so wherever you end up, I go, and that’s enough. Got it?”
I choked out a half-sob, half-laugh and sniffed. “Oscar, I’m fairly sure that’s blasphemy.”
“Goddamn right it is,” he said.
And God help me, but I snorted, a terrible sound of snot, relief, and despair.
