She’s not just the artist anymore. She’s part of the storm.
Actually… sheisthe storm.
A violent wave of nausea crashes through me. I gag and drool, throat tight and dry. I nearly lose my lunch, but I have no lunch to lose.
I reach for the edge of the bed, knuckles white.
Noah is there in an instant.
He drops to his knees, sliding between my jittering thighs. His hands find my legs, then leap up to cradle my face.
Soft palms. Cool skin.
Then his eyes—that piercing, beautiful blue—come into focus.
“Hey,” he whispers, voice calm but urgent. “I’ve got you.”
I try. God, I try.
“It’s her,”I rasp. “Meera… and you.”
Noah nods, solemn. “She was the only one I could see.”
I shake my head. My hands fly to his wrists, gripping them tightly. “You were just a boy, goddamn it.”
“I’m okay,” he whispers, voice soft as his breath ghosts across my lips. His knuckles trail gently down the side of my face. “She taught me how to survive, Alex. She taught me how to hide in the rain.”
His thumb settles against my trembling lips.
“America,” he continues, his voice quieter now, like we’re sharing a secret. “That’s her name. And there’s not much else I can tell you because… like me, she was kidnapped.”
His fingers slip beneath my chin, tilting my face up to meet his.
“She came looking for you, Alex. I’m your brother.”
A chill rips through me.
“I don’t have a brother,” I croak, barely audible.
One one thousand… two… three… four…
“You would have,” he says, a sigh clinging to every word. “If your parents had made it to me.”
His gaze holds steady on mine, unwavering.
“I was waiting for them that day… foryou. But someone else showed up instead. I had no way of knowing they weren’t my adoptive family. I was so sure you were on the boat, waiting for me… so I followed—skipped actually—right onto that yacht.”
His lips curl into the saddest smile I’ve ever seen. He sniffles, then continues. “But America… she knew what was happening. But she was young too, Alex. There was nothing she could do. At least not then. But she understood what I wanted most—a brother. That’s why she went looking for you.”
His voice is a whisper now, fragile but certain.
“At the time, I couldn’t escape. But she could. She promised me she’d find you.” His smile deepens. Not from joy, but from somewhere purer. “And she did.”
“But why?” I ask, voice trembling.
“Because she knew I belonged with you,” Noah answers softly. “Because my dreams were always about you. Because I needed you to take me out of the rain. But mostly… because you are my brother, and she wanted me to be happy.”
I stare at him, eyes wide, trying to hold onto any piece of logic that will keep me grounded—but nothing sticks. My brain is scrambling, trying to assemble the pieces of a puzzle I didn’t know were missing.
