6

“Thanks.” I bury my face in his chest, and I must dirty his clothes with all the oil paint, but I don’t release him. Because for the first time since the ordeal, I can finally let go. I feel safe from everything. My own head included. My fingers dig into my brother’s back and he holds me. Silently. This is why I love Bran the most. He knows how to be an anchor. He knows how to be a brother. Unlike Lan. After a while, we break apart, but he doesn’t allow me to leave. Instead, he perches down to stare at me. “What is it, little princess?” That’s what Dad calls me. Little princess. Mum is the original princess. The one Dad worships at her altar and makes all her dreams come true. I’m the princess’s daughter and, therefore, the little princess. I wipe at the moisture in my eyes. “Nothing, Bran.” “You don’t sneak to the basement at five in the morning, paint this, and then say it’s nothing. It can be every word under the sun, but nothing should not be on the menu.” I grab a palette and start mixing random colors just to keep my mind and hands occupied. Bran, however, doesn’t drop it. He takes a long detour, then stands between me and the painting I’m totally going to throw in the nearest fire. “Is it about Devlin?” I flinch, my throat bobbing up and down with a swallow at the name of my friend. At one point, my closest friend. The boy who understood my haunting muse as much as I understood his lonely demons. Until one day, we were ripped apart. Until one day, we went in different directions. “It’s not about Dev,” I whisper. “Bullshit. You think we haven’t noticed that you haven’t been the same since his death? His suicide is not your fault, Glyn. Sometimes, people choose to leave and nothing we could have done would’ve stopped it.” My eyes blur and my chest constricts until it’s impossible to breathe properly. “Just drop it, Bran.” “Mum, Dad, and Grandpa are worried about you. I am worried about you. So if there’s anything we can do, tell us. Talk to us. If you don’t express yourself, we’re unable to go anywhere with this situation.” I feel myself disintegrating and losing ground, so I stop mixing and push the palette into his hands. “You can probably make a beautiful forest à la Bran style with all that green.” He doesn’t refuse the palette, but he sighs deeply. “If you’re so intent on pushing us away, you might not find us when you actually need us, Glyn.” A small smile grazes my lips. “I know.” I’m good at keeping it all in. Bran isn’t convinced and stays around to try and fish information out of me. This is probably the first time I’ve wished it was Lan who found me and not him. At least Lan wouldn’t push. He doesn’t care. Bran cares too much. As do I. After a while, however, he takes the palette and leaves. As soon as the door clicks closed, I fall to the ground in front of the painting of a dark cliff, a black star, and reds of passion. Then I hold my head between my hands and let all the tears loose. By the time day breaks, I’m ready to escape without facing anyone in my family. I pack my suitcase for the new semester, then I take a shower that probably lasts for an hour. I scrub my mouth, my hair, my hands, my nails. Anywhere that psycho touched me. Then I put on a pair of jeans, a top, and a jacket, ready to hit the road. I pull out my phone and text my girls. We’ve had a group chat since we were basically in nappies and it’s where we always talk. Ava: Is it weird that I’m losing hair because of Ari? She won’t shut up about wanting to join the group chat. Cecily: Tell her to reapply in two years once she’s of age. We only talk big girl stuff here. Ava: Big girl stuff? Bitch, where? Didn’t see that on your prude menu in the last…nineteen years. Cecily: Very funny. Rolling on the ground as we speak. Not. Ava: You know you love me, Ces *kisses emojis* Juggling my bag on one shoulder, I type with my other hand. Glyndon: Ready to hit the road for uni. Who’s driving? We can actually fly to the island in a shorter amount of time, but that would mean taking a plane, and I’m scared of flying. My screen lights up with a reply. Ava: Not me. That’s for sure. We stayed up with Mum, Dad, and our grandparents last night, and I feel like a zombie. Cecily: I’ll do it. Give me another hour. Still didn’t get my fill of Mum and Papa. I’m about to type that I’m in a hurry but stop mid-text when Ava texts back. Ava: Gonna miss Mum and Dad like fucking shit. Grandpa and Grandma, too. Sigh. I’ll even miss the troublemaker, Ari. Have you guys seen her new IG handle? Ariella-jailbait-Nash. That bold little bitch, I swear. If Dad sees it, he’ll lock her the fuck up. Did I mention that I’m losing hair because of her? With both of them being sentimental, if I said let’s leave right now, it’d seem as if I were the one who was running away from my parents or something. I’m not. And really, I’ll miss them like hell, too. Maybe even more than Ava and Cecily will miss theirs, but sometimes, I just don’t like myself around my family. When I peek down from upstairs, the dining table is already buzzing with energy. Mum is putting some eggs in front of Bran, and Dad is helping but somehow getting in the way since he touches her every chance he gets. Something that she scolds him for but still laughs about anyway. I stop at the base of the stairs to watch them together. It’s been a habit of mine since I was young and dreamed about my own Prince Charming. Dad is big, tall, muscular and so blond, it’s like he’s a Viking god, as Mum likes to call him. He’s also one of the two heirs of the King fortune. A man of steel with a ruthlessness that’s often spoken about in the media. However, around Mum and us? He’s the best husband and father. The man who gave me higher standards. Ever since I was young, I’ve seen how he’s treated my mother as if he can’t inhale oxygen without her around. And I’ve seen how she looks at him as if he’s her protector. Her shield. Her partner. Even now, she shakes her head as he slips a hand around her midsection and steals a kiss from her lips. Her cheeks turn red, but she doesn’t attempt to shoo him away. I inherited her height and the rich depth of her green eyes. But other than that, we’re as different as night and day. She’s such a talented artist, and I can’t even reach her ankle. She’s a strong woman, and I’m just…me. Bran is oblivious to the PDA happening near him as he elegantly cuts his eggs and focuses on his tablet. Probably reading some arts magazine. It’s Mum who notices me first and promptly pushes Dad away. “Glyn! Morning, baby.” “Morning, Mum.” I plaster the brightest smile on my face, drop my backpack on the chair, and kiss her cheek, then Dad’s. “Morning, Dad.” “Morning, little princess. Where did you sneak to last night?” I step back with a start and stare at Bran, who merely lifts a shoulder. “I wasn’t the only one who noticed.” “I just went out to get some air,” I whisper, dropping down beside my brother. Mum and Dad take their seats with my father at the head of the table. He picks up his fork and knife and speaks without taking a bite. “You could’ve gotten some air within the property. Roaming around at night is dangerous, Glyndon.” You have no idea how true that statement is. I take a sip of my orange juice to stop myself from reliving the rotten memories from last night. “Let her be, Levi.” Mum passes me a boiled egg—well-cooked, the way I like—with a smile. “Our Glyn is a big girl now and can take care of herself.” “Not if she’s attacked by some crazy scum in the middle of the night.” I choke on the bit of juice that’s stuck in my mouth. Bran passes me a napkin and gives me a weird look. Shit. Please don’t tell me it’s written all over my face. “Don’t jinx it,” Mum tells him with a frown, then points at the egg. “Eat, honey.” I stuff my mouth with the white of the egg and Mum shakes her head when I basically throw most of the yolk away. “Do you need anything?” Dad asks, seeming suspicious of me. Jeez. I really hate having him in this mode. He’s like a crooked detective fishing for any sort of information. “No, no. I’m fine.” “Good. But if you happen to need something, let me or your brothers know,” he says after swallowing his food. “Will do.” “Speaking of your brothers,” Mum fixes me and Bran with her stern parental gaze. “I heard you two avoid Landon on campus?” “It’s not that we avoid him…” I start. “It’s that he doesn’t have time for us with all the attention he gets from both professors and students,” Bran finishes, lying through his teeth. Because we do try to spend as little time with him as possible. “Still.” Mum makes me a piece of toast, still treating me as if I’m a little girl. “You guys go to the same university and even the same art school, so I’d hoped you’d at least keep your bond.” “We’ll work on it, Mum,” I say in my pacifying tone, because even though Bran isn’t antagonistic either, he can definitely channel that energy when it comes to Lan. I start to get up, my stomach feeling heavy and absolutely refusing to accept more food. After kissing my parents goodbye and telling Bran I’ll see him later, I contemplate driving to Grandpa’s house, but he’s probably at work now. Also, if a slight interrogation from Dad rustled my feathers, an encounter with Grandpa will probably make me break down. So I send him a good morning email. Because my granddaddy doesn’t do texts. Doesn’t even honor them with a look. I’m about to tuck my phone away when it pings with a text. I think maybe Grandma is texting on Grandpa’s behalf, but it’s an unknown number. My heart nearly explodes from my chest when I read the words. Unknown Number: Maybe you should’ve died with Devlin, huh? After all, that was the plan, wasn’t it?