BEAU (original version)| ✓

48

• CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT •
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I can't sleep.

Deep into the night, every thought in my mind is keeping me awake. And whenever I do close my eyes, I'm plagued with vivid images of mom and Ethan, Kendra and the days before it all went sideways. Sometimes I hear her voice asking me why – why I hadn't loved her enough, taken care of her, helped her leave Ethan...and I'm paralyzed by a heavy heart. There are so many things I could have done better, so many ways we could have escaped this nightmare.

It feels like I'm going crazy in the worst way possible. Mulling over what could have been instead of what I can do puts each day on repeat. Like a broken record. It'll play till I die.

I face the ceiling, but a sliver of light pouring onto the mahogany floors catches my eye. It's followed by a figure clutching the doorknob, head bowed and rocking on his heels. If there's one thing that won't ever change about my life, it's Marc and his constant sneaking into my room. Usually, before I wake, he's gone, the rumpled space next to be indicating his lingering presence.

"Hey," I greet.

"Hi," Marc responds. He scurries inside the room and shuts the door behind him. When he gets to my bedside, I notice his swollen, red eyes and flushed cheeks. I've witnessed my brother cry for all sorts of reasons, but being so wrapped up in my struggles, I've neglected the fact that his problems are also mine, except worse.

He lost his mother and father, and now he's losing his brother.

"Can I sleep here?"

I move down to the other side of the bed and nod. Marc jumps in without hesitation. Pulling the blanket over both of us, guilt begins to slowly seep in through my pores like poison. My bedroom is quiet, and I make out the muffled sobs he emits, feeling his body tremble.

"You'll be okay, Marc." The difficult part is finding a way to comfort him when I'm not so sure I'll be okay myself. "You'll be fine."

He snuggles deeper into my body, hiding his face in my chest while my arms cradle him. "I miss mom," he sobs. "And I miss dad."

"I miss her too."

"I want to go home." But this is home. From now on, this is where we'll have to belong.

"We can't go anywhere, Marc. This is where we are, and we have to stay."

His cries have a ripple effect on my heart. They grow in strength and swallow me, muting all my other senses. Listening to him feels like a lifetime. I wait for it to end, but it doesn't seem like it will. But I have no right to ask him to stop grieving; he hasn't been given the proper chance since we left. Eliot and I have dragged Marc along while we sort through our issues, forgetting that he's a person too – he deserves to cry.

"Am I ever gonna see dad again?" Marc pulls back, freeing himself from my grip. He sits up and faces the open window, eyes on the night sky. "I know he did something bad. Like, really, really bad but...I still miss having him here."

I grind my teeth. Really bad isn't the first thing that comes to mind when I think about what he did to my mother. The fact that he murdered her because...because she just wouldn't listen.

"He murdered mom," I tell Marc.

"I know, I know." He cries like his soul is on fire. "But he's my dad."