Page 127 of Heart of Thieves

“So you don’t know?”

I try not to let the panic of that statement affect my work on Laurel’s wound. “There’s nothing we can do but wait.”

He grimaces, striking a match and tossing it into the fireplace. “She’s never going to trust me again.”

“If you wanted her to trust you,” I say as I clean blood from Laurel’s skin, “maybe you could have tried being trustworthy.”

“I would die for her.” His tone hardens.

“Die for her . . . and yet keep her from her family while also hiding her own magic from her. Seems reasonable.”

He scowls, turning to me as the fire crackles to life. “I was going to tell her.”

“When, Enzo?” I fling the pile of soiled cloth into the hamper across the room with far more force than necessary. “When were you going to tell her the truth?”

“When the curse was broken and we were free.”

“So when you didn’t need her anymore.” I cross to the cupboards and riffle through for gauze and tape to dress Laurel’s wound now that it’s clean.

“I’ll always need her,” he retorts.

“Want her, need her . . . ,” I say through gritted teeth. “Funny how neither of those things are about loving her.”

“I do love her. She’s my closest friend. The sibling I needed.”

I flinch as my anger flares. “Loving people isn’t about what you want or need, Enz,” I say coldly. “It’s about their wants and needs mattering as much to you as your own.”

He stalks back to Lola’s bed and presses the back of his hand to her forehead. “For what it’s worth,” he says, “I recognize that if I hadn’t convinced you to help me steal that moonshard, Laurel never would have become what she is now, you wouldn’t have been cursed, Lola would have gotten to live her life the way she always dreamed, and I . . . well. I would probably still be a thief, but at least you wouldn’t hate me.”

“You believe I hate you?” I ask, low and quiet.

He avoids my eye. “You should.”

My stomach sinks as my heart breaks wide open. I set the gauze on the bed next to Laurel and cross to him, pressing a hand to his shoulder. “You’re my little brother.”

I cannot say I love him. The words are trapped in my throat, locked away behind the magic that keeps my truths. But I hope he hears them anyway.

He deflates with a sigh, dropping into the chair next to Lola’s stretcher and propping his elbows on his knees to knead his fingers through his curls.

I look down at Lola. She’s so pale, so still. Gods, if my Unbreakable Lie is the reason for . . .

No. I can’t go there.

Gritting my teeth, I lean over her bed and press my lips to her frigid forehead.

“Why did you let me think you were the villain?” Enzo asks, so quiet I almost miss it. “Why did you pretend to be one?”

I straighten, tearing my eyes away from Lola’s face to look at him. “Why were you so eager to believe it?”

“It was easier to blame you,” he says slowly, “because I didn’t want to confront what I’d done.”

I nod, returning to Laurel’s side to finish taping the gauze over her wound. “You were not the only one who made mistakes, Enz.”

“You were trying to take care of me. And while I may have resented you for it, I will admit I might not have survived my youth if not for you.”

“Oh, that is definitely true.”

He nods once, sniffing. “Thank you.” He turns back to Lola, checking her temperature yet again. “Wait,” he says, and my heart stops.