Page 204 of The Encore’s Crown

I give her a look.

“We don’t,” she insists. “He’s just complicated.”

She tilts her head back toward the waiting room. Toward the band. Toward everything Kiri has spent years carrying on his shoulders.

“He’s into groupies and fast cars and all the things Rafe told me about before you were even a factor. That doesn’t make him evil. It just makes him someone I was scared I’d have to kill for hurting my sister.” Her expression stays perfectly serious. “It’d make it hard for The Riven Altar to continue touring with their bassist buried under Mama and Tata’s porch.”

A laugh catches somewhere in my throat as we reach a little vending alcove. The coffee machine's screen is cycling through pictures of drinks no hospital machine has ever produced accurately.

“Which one?”

“Something with enough sugar to qualify as medication.”

She selects two drinks, presses her card to the reader, and turns back to me while the machine grinds loudly behind her.

“It was never about judging you.” She takes me by the shoulders. “You’re an adult capable of making your own decisions. No one can accuse Natalia Sawadzka of not knowing her own mind. It’s just…” Her eyes soften. “It’s hard without Piotr.”

My eyes start to sting again at the sound of his name.

“He always had the best advice. Whenever I was stuck, he could hand me a shot glass of vodka and fix the entire world with one or two sentences. I don’t have whatever magic he had.” Her voice catches. “He was better at this part than me. I understand books, rules and eyes. All of this is like a foreign language I'm struggling to learn.”

“Kas—”

“I didn’t mean to push you away. I don’t want you hiding things from me.” The machine beeps behind her, but she doesn’t turn around. “I just can’t stand thinking you might get hurt. You deserve to be happy. You’ve already been through so much—”

“We have.”

She stops, confusion passing over her face.

“We’ve already been through so much,” I say. “All of us. It isn’t your job to protect me from everything, and you can’t be Piotr because you aren’t him. I don’t need you to be anyone but you, Kasia. You’re still my big sister, and I still need you.” My throat tightens. “Maybe now more than ever. I don't know how to help him.”

She studies me and then something dawns across her face. She cups my cheek.

“You’re in love.”

Heat floods my face. I shove away from her with a groan, flailing backward like a child until my shoulders hit the wall. Then I tip my head back and stare at the ceiling.

“It’s dumb. Men are dumb. Feelings are dumb. I want to strangle him at least fifty percent of the time, and the other fifty I want him to annihilate my body or crush me with his stupidly muscular thighs. I hate it. Is this normal?”

Kasia shrugs. “Pretty much.” Then she lowers her voice. “But it’s also the best feeling in the world, right?”

“Yeah.” I look back toward the secured doors. “But now he’s hurting, and I don’t know what to do.”

Kasia’s expression slips into understanding.

“Just be there,” she says. “That’s it.”

“That feels suspiciously easy.”

“It’s anything but. Ask Rafe.”

She shakes her head, and I see it on her face. The guilt. The sadness. Everything Rafe must help her carry since we lost Piotr. Then she notices me softening and, being allergic to pity, immediately turns it back on me.

“So, in love, huh? Has he said it?”

I nod.

“Then I hope he understands what that means.”