"You used to crawl into my bed," I continue when I can speak again. "When you had nightmares. Do you remember? You'd say the monsters were coming. And I'd tell you I'd protect you. That I'd never let anything hurt you."
He's shaking. It's so bad he can barely hold onto the knife. His eyes are wide, like he's strung out, and I can't help but wonder if he is.
Maybe, drugs are to blame.
"That's not fair?—"
Tears stream down my face.
"We used to play in the snow. Remember? You'd make snow angels and I'd make snowmen. And Mom would make us hot chocolate." I'm sobbing. "You were my baby brother. I loved you. I love you. Please, Gabe. Please." The contractions have slowed, giving me time to breathe, but I'm in pain, and I'm terrified that the moisture I feel leaking between my legs isn't amniotic fluid.
"Sera, don't?—"
"I'm still your sister, Gabe. I'm still the person who sang you lullabies. Who chased away your monsters. Who took care of you when Mom and Dad died." I reach out my hand toward him. "Please. Please help me. Help your nephew. He's innocent. He doesn't deserve this."
For a moment, just a moment, I see it.
The softening. The crack in the armor.
Gabe's face crumples. The knife lowers slightly.
"I didn't want this," he whispers. "I never wanted to hurt you. I just—I was so scared. I am so scared." He wipes his face, looking at me with big eyes. "I don't want to die."
"I know." My hand is still extended. "It's okay. It's going tobe okay. Just help me. Please. We'll figure it out together. Like we always did." I try to sit up. "If you get me to the hospital, Adrian will forgive you. He'll be grateful. I promise."
The lie tastes like ash on my lips because I know my husband. And as angry as I am with my brother, I can't help but still see that little boy in him. The one who curled up next to me asking for songs.
"I'm sorry. Sera, I'm so sorry—" Gabe reaches for me, and I know I've won.
The explosion shatters everything.
The front of the bookstore erupts in fire and smoke and noise.
Glass rains down. The floor shakes. My ears are ringing.
I'm thrown backward, hitting the bookshelf hard. Books cascade down around me.
I can't see. Can't hear. Can't breathe.
Smoke is everywhere.
And through it, I hear shouting. Men's voices. Orders being barked.
Gunfire.
Someone is shooting.
I curl around my stomach, protecting the baby, as chaos erupts around me.
And then?—
Nothing.
Just smoke and noise and terror.
And the desperate, agonizing thought:
Adrian.
