“Fal?” I call over, her facial expression cracking at the mention of her name. “Come on sis, come sit with us for a while?”
She finally looks at me, despair written across all her features. There are no tears there, but there doesn’t need to be. The hollow, sodden look is enough to show how she’s feeling. She looks ill. She follows us into the room at a snail’s pace, but she doesn’t sit.
Her chest is rising and falling rapidly, her breathing sounding laboured. It’s heartbreakingto see her this way. First Harry, now this? I can’t begin to imagine how she feels. Pushing my anger to the side, I open my arms wide, welcoming her in for a hug I think we both need.
She nestles into my chest and breaks like a damn collapsing. Heavy wet sobs, wracking through her body. I hold on tighter, trying to hold all of her broken pieces together.
“I feel so lost. I need my best friend. I need Harry,” She cries.
Fuck, I am way out of my comfort zone here. I don’t have a clue how to help her. Luckily, Lucy comes to take over. Speaking in hushed tones, soothing her as she guides her over to the couch.
“What if she never remembers me?” She wails. “I need her so much.”
“She will. She has to,” I urge.
I’ve only just admitted my feelings to her, this can’t be how our story ends.
