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“Yes.”

Robbie picks up the board and tiles, moving them slowly to the coffee table. Then he grabs my leg, tugging me towards him until I’m flat on my back.

“What the hell are you—Ah! No, Robbie. No!”

Robbie’s grip on my ankle is vice-like, and I can’t shake him off as he tickles my sole. I kick him with my other foot, but he ignores it. I kick again, aiming for his stomach, but the stupid thing is rock hard. He doesn’t even flinch.

I’m going to explode. My body tenses, and I can’t breathe or move. “Robbie,” I beg. Tears prick my eyes from feeling too much too fast, and I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. “Stop, please!” I choke out.

He instantly lets go. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” I huff, swiping at my eyes and scrambling to sit up. I tuck my feet under myself so he can’t grab them again. After calming down, I blow out a breath. “It was too much.”

“I’m sorry, I was just—I won’t do it again, okay?”

I nod, though I’m not sure I believe him. If he knew the shit I’ve put myself through over the past few years, he’d think I was pathetic for crumbling at something as silly as being tickled.

His face softens, and he stands to pick up the few Scrabble tiles left on the sofa. “It’s pretty late, and I have to work early in the morning.”

“Oh …” I stand too, but my legs go weak at the thought of being alone in the empty cottage. Robbie grabs my arm to steady me.

“You can stay the night if you want. I changed the sheets in the spare room yesterday, after Theo left.”

Relief washes over me. I nod, letting him lead me up the stairs to the spare room. Once the door is shut, I undress and crawl into the bed. The scent of fabric softener wafts out of the sheets, and it smells like Robbie.

I try not to shove my nose in and breathe in deeply—I really do. But it’s like a fucking drug.

My phone pings, and I jump like I’ve been caught. I check, just in case it’s Bailey. It’s not, so I glare at the screen and switch the phone to silent.

I roll onto my back and try to sleep, but I’m too fixated on my locket sitting heavy on my sternum. The more I ignore it, the heavier it feels. The heavier it feels, the harder it is to ignore.

“You should go to sleep, it’s past your bedtime.”

I turn my head, coming face to face with my five-year-old little brother. “Am I not asleep now?” I ask.

“I don’t think so.” He frowns. “How can you be asleep when you’re talking to me, silly?”

I rub my eyes, exhaustion settling over me. If I’m not asleep, then I’m halfway there. Usually when Jamie comes to me, we just stare at one another while I count the beauty spots on his cheek and the flecks of blue and green in his grey eyes. When Bailey isn’t with me, Jamie talks until I fall asleep.

“I learnt to count to twenty, Noah. Wanna hear?”

“No,” I rasp. “No counting.”

His face drops, and his bottom lip sticks out, wobbling. “You’re still mean.”

My eyes burn. “I’m not, Jamie.”

“Go to sleep, Noah.” He rolls over, facing away from me.

I know it’s pointless, but I reach for him anyway. When I feel nothing but empty space, I grab my locket instead and close my eyes.

Tonight’s going to be bad.

ROBBIE

The bed dips, rousing me from my sleep, and the sound of laboured breathing fills the silence. My eyes fly open, but the room is too dark to see anything. “Noah?” I whisper, bolting upright. “What are you doing?”

“N-nothing, just p-pretend I’m not here,” he says through chattering teeth. Not just his teeth—his body is shaking so violently the bed is moving.