My vision is fuzzy around the edges, the blood whooshing through my veins audible over my labored breathing.
Panic claws at my chest as anxiety coils tighter, making my stomach turn.
Did that really just happen?
At my house? On my watch? Because of me?
“Noah.”
I glance up, startled at the voice, and find Sawyer standing close.
“Hey,” she says softly, brushing a sweaty tendril of hair off my forehead. “You’re okay. Mercer and Tytus are safe. We’re all okay.”
They weren’t.
They still aren’t.
No one is ever truly safe around me.
Saliva floods my mouth. I bend at the waist, worried I’m about to be sick.
“Noah.” She smooths one hand up and down my back. “Listen to me.”
I can’t.
I won’t.
The porch fucking collapsed because of my neglect.
Straightening, I suck in a shuddering breath. “I knew those boards needed to be replaced,” I choke out.
“It was an accident. You can’t protect everyone from everything,” Sawyer counters.
I drop my head into my hands. “They started to discolor this summer. I bought the supplies to replace them, but I hadn’t gotten around to it yet. I’m so fucking stupid. I was reckless and played with people’s lives.”
“Noah.”
Her tone is firmer now. Less sympathetic.
Good.
I deserve her ire. I did this. All this pain and suffering happened because ofme.
“You don’t get to blame anyone for this, least of all yourself,” she says, pulling my hands away from my face. “Sit back,” she demands, pressing against my shoulder until I lean against the wall.
Wordlessly, she straddles me and cups my cheeks.
I turn my head, determined to look away, but she tightens her hold, forcing me to meet her gaze.
“That was awful,” she starts. “I can’t imagine how you’re feeling right now. But I refuse to let you harbor any guilt over what just happened. It was an accident, Noah. Accidents happen.”
My throat clogs with emotion, making it nearly impossible to choke out the next words.
“My family died because of me.”
She stills, and I swear she shrinks in on herself, as if she’s retreating.
This is it.
