Page 132 of Forbidden Fate

No.

I refuse to cry.

Not yet.

Not in front of him.

“I checked the next day,” Cruz says. “To make sure he’d been found. I wasn’t going to let him die.”

I roll my eyes. “Yeah? Good. That’s just great, Cruz. And he was gone, right?”

“Yeah.”

“You know why?” I struggle to breathe. “I was the one who found him. I was the one who found my little brother near death.”

“Robin—"

“I went there because Hawk wasn’t answering his phone. He was with Daniela and wasn’t paying attention. I was worried, so I went to check on him.”

The memory comes back so clearly I can smell it. I wrap both arms around myself.

I steady my voice to keep it from breaking. “He was on the ground. His lips were blue. His fingertips too. His skin was clammy. Covered in sweat. There was vomit everywhere.”

Cruz’s face twists.

Good.

“He was twitching,” I say. “His limbs were jerking like his body didn’t know how to stay alive. I thought he was going to die.”

The tears come now.

I hate them.

I hate that they blur Cruz’s face.

I hate that my body betrays me at the exact moment I want to be nothing but rage.

“I screamed for help,” I say. “I called 911. I kept saying his name because I thought if I stopped, he would slip away. I thought maybe if he heard me, he’d come back.”

He takes a few steps toward me. “Robin, please.”

I throw a hand in his face. “You were the one who did that to him!”

His eyes close.

Only for a second.

When they open, they’re wet. He’s not crying. But it’s close enough that I hate him for it.

“Yes,” he says.

“The doctors gave him a fifty-fifty chance.”

Cruz stills. “What?”

“A fifty-fifty chance of making it,” I say. “That’s what we were told.”

He swallows. “I didn’t know that.”