Chapter 1
Blood.
I promised Dad I wouldn’t do this again.
Yet here I was, watching crimson drip from the cut on my arm, staining the sleeve of my grey sweater.
Sick.
That’s what he would call it.
Maybe he was right.
I pressed my lips together and stared at the blood sliding across my skin. I knew I should stop. I knew I should care. But after a while, pain became familiar. Familiar things were hard to let go of.
Ever since Mom left, it had been just Dad and me.
A nightmare wrapped in silence.
I was almost nineteen years old, yet something inside me felt damaged beyond repair. Broken. Tainted. I didn’t know why I was the way I was. I only knew I was tired of carrying it around.
Most of all, I hated worrying Dad.
With a sigh, I grabbed a clean piece of gauze and wrapped it around the cut. The bleeding slowed until it finally stopped. Pulling my sleeve down, I hid the evidence.
Like always.
I retreated to my room and sank onto my bed.
Books waited for me there.
Books never asked questions.
I picked one up and disappeared into its pages.
They were my escape routes. My armor against everything threatening to break me apart.
Outside the window, the moon hung bright against the dark sky.
Peaceful.
Distant.
Untouchable.
“Kiddo?”
Dad’s voice drifted up the stairs.
I froze.
Collecting myself, I take deep breaths. Making my way to the kitchen
“Sweetheart, eat.”
Dad’s voice broke through the silence.
I stared down at my plate.
The food looked fine.
Smelled fine.
Yet my stomach twisted at the thought of swallowing another bite.
I forced myself to take a mouthful anyway.
Dad watched me for a moment before returning his attention to his own dinner.
The silence stretched between us.
Heavy.
Uncomfortable.
Familiar.
“There was a phone call this morning,” he said casually.
I glanced up.
“Who from?”
“My brother.”
The fork paused halfway to my mouth.
Cassius.
The name felt distant. Like something pulled from an old photograph.
I remembered fragments.
Dark hair.
A deep laugh.
A face so striking it hardly seemed real.
The kind of beauty that made people stare without meaning to.
Years had passed since I’d seen him.
New York had taken him away long ago.
“Uncle Cassius?” I asked.
Dad nodded.
“He’ll be coming back.”
My brows knitted together.
“Back?”
“For a while.”
The words settled uneasily in my chest.
“Why?”
Dad exhaled slowly.
“He’s taking a break from work.”
That didn’t sound right.
From what little I remembered, Cassius never stopped working.
Ever.
“He sold his apartment,” Dad added.
I looked up sharply.
“What?”
“He wants to stay here for a few months. Maybe longer.”
A strange feeling crawled through me.
Not excitement.
Not dread.
Something in between.
The kind of feeling you get before a storm arrives.
Dad gave me a small smile.
“He asked about you.”
I looked away.
That feeling returned.
Stronger this time.
Because somehow...
I couldn’t shake the certainty that Cassius wasn’t coming back for a break.
He was coming back for a reason.
