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Nila let me go, moving to Jasmine’s side and wedging herself where Vaughn kept a subtle touch on my sister’s shoulder. Nila smiled at her twin, wrapping her arm around Jasmine. “We understand. Jethro isn’t well. He needed to rest. You did the right thing—”

I turned on both of them. “The right thing? Howdareyou decide what’s the right thing when my fucking brother is dead! I should’ve been here for him. I should’ve held his hand and said goodbye. I should’ve had the freedom to tellhim just how much I loved him. How much he helped me. How much I appreciated his friendship even when I pushed him away.”

The pain at his passing crumpled my heart like a dirty piece of paper, screwing it into a tear-stained ball. “I should’ve been there.”

Jasmine’s skin waxed white with grief. “He was already dead, Kite. He passed when you were with Cut.” Her eyes popped wide. “Forget that. I wasn’t going to tell you. Forget—”

“What?”My spine rolled. I punched myself in the chest, seeking relief from the slowly fermenting agony. “You’re telling me while I hurt our father—while I did what I thought was right—my brotherdied! Is this life’s cruel joke? I stole a life. Therefore, they stole his in return!?”

I faced my brother, grabbing his ice-cold hand with mine. “Is this my fault?”

Jasmine’s wheels creaked as she rolled closer. Nila came with her, moving to my side, wrapping me in her sadness and despair.

“He was my brother too, Jet. Don’t you think I wanted to say goodbye? I would’ve given anything to be there. But we weren’t.” Her voice turned fierce. “And it isn’t your fault.”

Vaughn didn’t say a word, backing away a little, never taking his eyes off Kestrel.

“Kes knew how we felt about him. He knew he was loved and wanted. He didn’t die without knowing how much we’d miss him.” Jasmine couldn’t continue; her tears turned to sobs, and my heart cracked with her pain.

I curled my fists, pressing nails against my palm, wanting to draw blood. I needed to hurt myself so I could focus on a singular discomfort rather than a room full of tragedy. I needed my blade. I needed to cut open my soles and activate age-old salvations so I could get through this.

But I had nothing with me.

And I couldn’t leave Kestrel.

Nila curled into me, wrapping her unbroken arm around my waist, pressing her head against my shoulder. She didn’t say a word, but she didn’t have to.

Somehow, she pushed aside her grief at Kes’s death and focused on her love for me. Standing in a room full of crippling unhappiness, she gave me a cocoon of togetherness.

Unknowingly, my body relaxed a little. I leaned into her, kissing the top of her head. “Thank you.”

She didn’t look up, but she nodded.

Having a moment of peace, I sucked in a heavy breath and turned to hug my sister. My back bent, gathering her crying form from her wheelchair, murmuring in her ear. “I’m sorry, Jaz. I had no right to yell at you.”

She clung to me, crying harder. “I shouldn’t have made the decision to let you sleep. I should’ve woken you. I’ll never forgive myself. But I haven’t moved from his side, Kite. I stayed with him until you arrived. I kept our brother company.”

Pulling away, I brushed aside her tears. “Thank you.”

The moment I let Jaz go to touch Nila, Vaughn placed his palm back on my sister’s shoulder.

My eyes narrowed.

He glared.

I didn’t want to feel what he did, but he gave me no choice.

He liked her.

He wanted her.

He hated she was hurting and would be there for her whether I liked it or not.

The complication of Vaughn developing feelings for my sister pissed me off but there was too much to focus on. And there was another person much more important to fret over.

Ignoring him, I faced Kestrel once again.

He lay stiffly on the metal table. His skin looked fake, his hair dull, his form unwanted. His arms remained dead straight beside him, the inked kestrel on his flesh glowing morbidly under the lights, while a white sheet covered his nakedness.