The sound echoed through me, sharp and warm all at once like it had been trapped somewhere deep and had finally found a crack to slip through.
I sucked in a breath, the garden snapping back into focus so fast it made me sway.
Maren’s head turned towards me, and her expression softened. “Kasey?”
I blinked hard, my heart pounding, the name still ringing in my ears.
Evy.
I knew that name. A name I had held onto the longest after being put into Lockswell. It was what got me through those first few months, having my family taken away from me. It was what kept me comfort on those dark nights where I didn’t know what was going to become of me.
Is it really possible? Was Evander, right? Could I be that boy that thinks I am?
The memory, if that’s what it was, left a warmth in my chest that didn’t feel like it belonged to the present. It belonged tohim.
Belonged to the boy who laughed in the sunlight. To the boy who’d run ahead and looked back to make sure I was following. To the boy whose name I’d call out like it was the easiest thing in the world.
Looking back at the stone, the namewasmine.
“Evy.” My best friend. The other part of me had been missing for a better part of my life.
His face was blurry now, but I knew that name.
“He wouldn’t allow us to call him that name after the boy disappeared. Not that we ever tried.”
“What…what did he call the boy?”What did he call me?That was what I wanted to ask.
Maren’s eyes softened, the kind of softness that comes from remembering. She looked at the stone in my hands, then at me, and when she spoke, her voice carried a warmth that wrapped around me.
“He called himHoneybee.Said he was tiny, always buzzing around him, always curious. Said he made the world feel brighter just by being in it.”
Honeybee.
No….
I was tempted to push away, to toss the rock like it was on fire. But I held onto the stone tighter, my heart beating too quickly in my chest. Blood rushed through every part of my body.
No….
Just….it couldn’t.
“Come on, Honeybee! This way!”
My breath stuttered. It…. It was me, wasn’t it?
“He loved that boy,” she whispered. “More than he ever knew how to say it. That child was his whole world. And he’s spent every year trying to find him. I don’t think he would stop even if they found a body. Evander’s always believed the boy wasn’t gone.”
“He thinks he was…misplaced.” The word felt too small for what I meant. Taken. Trained. Turned into the perfect Omega.
“Evander sure thinks so.” Maren nodded once, slow and steady.
“You don’t?” I asked, tilting my head towards her, searching for her face. Because if she didn’t believe the boy –me –could be alive…. if she didn’t believe in the possibility Evander clung to…. What would she do when the truth came out?
Would she accept it? Acceptme?
And worse…wouldI?
The questions pressed against my ribs, heavy and breathless, as the stone warmed between my palms like it knew the answers before I did.
