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Chapter Eighteen

Kota prided himself on being prepared for every scenario.

Before appearing in Sunnyvale Court with Nathan in tow, he'd gone through exactly 206 scenarios in which they might discover Sang and Mr. Blackborne. He'd hoped against everything that they'd find them both in relatively good shape, but statistically, he knew that that outcome was less .287% possible. Still, he thought he'd anticipated everything—

But this, he hadn't prepared for this.

They'd both appeared at the bottom of Sang's staircase, Kota's mind working a mile a minute as he tried to decipher the most likely location of their missing brother. If he was even here— before he had a chance to gather his bearings and share his findings, Nathan was storming up the staircase, flitting through various walls with little regard.

"Sang?" Nathan bellowed, barely veiled panic making his voice a touch higher, "Sang? You here?"

It wasn't the most effective solution, but it fit Nathan's modus operandi. Already having determined Sang's room as the most likely location, Kota was halfway up the stairs when he heard Nathan scream, "Kota! Get Sean!" 

Nathan's voice cracked. Something it hadn't done since he hit puberty.

Fear curled in his gut, his mouth going dry as he thought over all the scenarios he'd concocted. So many of them ended in death— His mind swirling a mile a minute, Kota didn't attempt to run, instead choosing to phase into Sang's room.

"What happened—" he caught sight of Nathan hovering before frantic green eyes fell on the two figures huddled together in the corner of the room, "No."

He'd never seen his mentor in such a state.

Hunched over the second figure, Mr. Blackborne lifted tired steel eyes. The front of his shirt was coated in a worrying layer of crimson, his fingers nearly shaking as he continued to meticulously brush Sang's blood matted hair off her forehead. He didn't react to their presence, his stare fixated heavily on the wall behind them.

Unhindered by the sight of blood, Nathan strode forward, his chest heaving as he tried to guide Sang out of Mr. Blackborne's hold, "Sang?" His whisper broke off as he managed to twist her out of their leader's grip, "Oh god—"

Her face was nearly unrecognizable. A healed gash split along the top of her forehead, dried blood coating her eyelashes and dripping toward her mouth. The front of her shirt was torn, showing a concerning amount of bruising around her collarbone. The arm she had cradled to her chest was bent wrong, the bone twisted to the left unnaturally.

Thankfully her chest was moving, but in the silence of the room, even Kota could hear the wheezing in her lungs.

"Sang," Nathan was chanting under his breath as he worked to check her pulse, "Sang! Can you hear me?"

Kota wanted to help, his fingers itching to stitch her back together— but he had to understand what happened. That was his job. He had to know how it all turned into this.

"Mr. Blackborne," Kota tried to speak, but his throat twisted into knots when he caught another glance of Sang's body, "What happened—"

"Her mother," Owen's voice was robotic, but something like fury sparked in his stare, "It's been dealt with."

"What—" Kota trailed off, watching the way Mr. Blackborne's stare never wavered from the wall behind him. Taking a fortifying breath, he turned to examine the spot that held his brother's attention so fully.

Leaning against the wall was the battered body of a middle-aged woman. Her eyes were closed, but her mouth was open in a silent scream. Bruises lined her pale skin and her arm was twisted in a manner similar to Sang's own. Her bony hands were clenched in the carpet, silent tears cascading down her face.