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And most of all, his thoughts were in a complete mess.
At first, Oliver couldn’t remember anything from that night. He couldn’t even remember what Winnie looked like.
But he remembered the well.
And the more he dwelled on what Holly said, the more his head started planting the images. Soon, he was playing—repeatedly—a reel of him pushing Winnie backwards into the well.
“Do you need anything?”
Oliver wanted to ignore Seth. He wanted to dig a hole and bury himself in it. Since he couldn’t do that, he was content to lie on his side and keep his back to Seth.
Because he really couldn’t face his brother.
“Oliver?”
“I don’t need anything,” he said, then paused. “I’m really sorry, Seth.” He should at least turn and tell Seth that to his face, but Oliver couldn’t.
“It isn’t your fault.”
Of course Seth would say that, but how was it not Oliver’s fault?
Oliver hated that he was such a burden. He hated that he was such a coward.
Pushing himself upright in bed, Oliver faced his brother.
Seth was staring at his phone. He wasn’t doing anything with it. He was just … staring. This was the first time Oliver had seen Seth like that. Usually, Seth would spend every spare moment he had tinkering with a prototype he was building or sketching out an idea that was brewing in his head.
Only with Clary had Oliver seen Seth simply relaxing—sitting around chatting and laughing, not concerned with finishing whatever idea he was working on.
But this … this shell of a person just sitting there and staring at his phone …
Oliver squared his shoulders. “Let me go, Seth. I should take responsibility for what I did.”
“You don’t even know if you did it.”
“Then let the police investigate.”
“If they could solve the case, they would’ve done so years ago.” Seth drew a deep breath and—seemingly with great effort—lifted his chin. “I know you think you’ll solve everything by doing that, but that’s not the case. Clary wouldn’t want you behind bars. That was why she didn’t even bring it up to you.”
Oliver’s phone buzzed, and he cast a cursory glance at it while continuing, “I don’t need you guys to—” He grabbed his phone. “Clary just texted me.”
Seth was right next to him when the text message loaded.
It isn’t your fault.
“Have you been texting her?” Oliver asked.
“She hasn’t read or replied to any of my messages.”
“Come home,” Oliver said as he typed. “Or I’ll go to the police now.”
“Don’t threaten her.”
Oliver licked his lips while the three dots loaded for what seemed like a very long time; then it stopped and there wasn’t a reply. He sighed. “Sorry. I messed up again.”
Seth continued staring at Oliver’s phone for another long moment before getting up. “You didn’t. She wouldn’t—”
“She replied.” Oliver frowned when he saw the text message.
