She turns, and her bloodshot eyes land on us. Fen crosses the yard and reaches for Silas’s hand, pulling him to stand. He follows her lead and stands, slipping from my embrace, and turning to face the house.
Oak races out of the house and freezes when he sees Warrick’s body on the ground.
He slows but makes his way toward me, his face paling.
“Fuck.” Oak grabs my hand. “We need to get them inside. Larkin can’t see this, not after tonight.”
I nod and glance toward Fen and Silas. They stand hand in hand, staring at Warrick’s lifeless body on the ground in silence. Never have I seen Silas appear so tired—so defeated—as his shoulders curl in. His head drops as his messy hair falls across his face, and his hand wraps tighter against Fenmore’s.She doesn’t break her forward gaze, only focused on the last few moments she has with him.
“I’m going to get something to cover him up,” Oak says, and rushes back into the house, leaving me outside with Fen and Silas.
I slowly approach them.
“Let’s get you two inside,” I whisper, and wipe the falling tear from my eye.
Fen looks at me with a blank stare and nods, pulling Silas to follow her. The rising sun casts hues of pink, orange, and red across the sky, and I grimace. Red—always so much red—and I’m sick of the color always surrounding me. I turn, and my gaze lands on something glowing in the yard—the stone.
Carobon, so distracted by the sobs coming from Fen, left the stone. I pick it up and pocket it before I follow them into the house.
We pass Oak on the way in, and he carries a white sheet—his face frantic and filled with grief.
Silas and Fen walk down the staircase, and Oak grabs my arm, making me stop a few stairs up.
“What the fuck happened?” Oak’s eyes flash concern.
“Carobon,” I muster the words out. “He killed him without even touching him.”
“My Gods,” he responds.
“But…” I stumble over the words. “Rohhit. He’s not gone, Oak. He’s in there, holding on. Fen’s cries shocked Carobon, like Rohhit was fighting to come forward.”
Oak mumbles. “She can help us pull him back, then.”
I glance down the stairs, and dread settles into my core like a brick. “I don’t think she’ll help us do anything regarding Carobon again.”
Oak makes a pained face before rushing from the house to attend to Warrick.
I move down the stairs to find Fen curled in on herself before the roaring fire, her bright green eyes contrasting with the reddened skin around them. Her blank stare tells me she’s in shock, but at least the numbness has taken over. I think back to my times of grief, and being dazed is the only reason I made it out a few times.
Rose stands in the kitchen, doing what she does best—making food. She shows her love that way, and in a few hours, every open space in this house will be covered in treats. She gives me a relieved nod and continues her work. Maines’s bedroom door is shut, and I pray she’s sleeping peacefully, unaware of what’s happened.
I look toward the balcony, and I see two figures standing there—Silas and Larkin.
I tiptoe to the edge of the threshold, and they speak quietly. Larkin’s arm is in a sling, tightly placed against his body, but it’s okay and will heal.
Their whispers fill the air, and I hear Silas say, “He’s gone, Larkin.”
Larkin’s head drops forward, and his eyes close tightly as he grips the edge of the railing to steady himself. He curses under his breath, and I watch a tear fall and soak the concrete railing of the balcony.
Their friend, after all these years, is gone. After they have always protected one another.
Silas places his hand across Larkin’s back and squeezes.
“How?” Larkin’s voice cracks, as a near-silent sob leaves his lips.
“Protecting her,” Silas whispers. “Like he always did.”
I walk to the edge of the railing and remain silent on the other side of Larkin. I hear quiet sniffles come from his lowered head, and he doesn’t raise it when I join them. Instead, Larkin’s hand slowly slides toward mine and wraps around it tightly. Iglance on the other side of Larkin and gaze into Silas’s bloodshot eyes. Silas’s face harbors such sadness, but for the moment, I’m glad the rage is gone. He needs to feel something—anything—other than fury in this moment.
