Page 74 of Twisted Elites

There’s that story of the original Siamese twins, Chang and Eng. Chang’s poor health and heavy drinking meant that he died first, and the otherwise-healthy Eng had to carry the dead body of his twin for hours until he succumbed. That’s what my misery is doing to Cormac.

That’s why I have to cut away the necrotic tissue before he succumbs, too.

A tight fist squeezed my heart, and tears filled my eyes. Corrine hadn’t been driven to suicide by the bullies. She had wanted to die because of the effect she had on her brother.

“What is it?” he whispered.

“It’s horrible, and you have to remember she probably wasn’t well when she wrote this, and—”

“Tell me,” he said in a voice filled with steel.

I blinked away my tears and read out the passage.

Color leached out of Cormac’s skin, and his face slackened. “She killed herself to save me.”

Gathering the papers to my chest, I walked across the room and settled next to him on the mattress. “That’s not how I interpreted it.” I wrapped my arms around his slumped shoulders and gave him a tight squeeze. “From everything I read about you in there, you were the perfect, loving brother.”

“But not strong enough to support her,” he said through clenched teeth.

“You did your best.” I gave him a gentle shake. “There’s only so much a teenaged boy can do. Corrine needed professional help.”

Cormac shook his head. “Finish it.”

My brows drew together. “I don’t think—”

“Don’t draw it out. If I don’t hear the end, I’ll go mad with not knowing.”

“Alright.” Clearing my throat, I broke away from him and read out the next part.

Something inside me died the day storm clouds eclipsed the sun. A constant and relentless rain caused blight to spread through my body. The Bitch was right. I’m a waste of a life, a shambling disgrace, and I should just kill myself.

Maybe if I died, the sun will come out. Perhaps once I’ve gone, the sun will remember how it used to reflect its gentle light on my petals. Maybe.

After reading the last word, a noisy gasp ripped from Cormac’s throat that jerked his upper body forward. He slid off the edge of the mattress onto his knees. “She really did it.”

“Cormac.” The words died in my throat. What could I say after ripping open a partially healed wound? Sorry just wasn’t enough. “This wasn’t your fault.”

His shoulders shook with silent sobs, and I placed the papers on the mattress and knelt at his side. I cradled him to my chest and let him cry.

“We all let her down,” he rasped.

I hugged him tighter. From Corrine’s diary entries, Mrs. Benazir and Miss Claymore had let Corrine down by not offering her any support that didn’t consist of reminders that her grades were slipping.

Over the fourth and fifth years, Prakash had tried to prove his love to her, only for Corrine to twist their final encounter into an accusation of rape. I didn’t want to think ill of the dead, so I pushed aside my judgment on her twisted act. But it was no wonder Prakash no longer wanted to associate with Corrine.

“Didn’t you read what she said?” I stroked Cormac’s hair. “You were the only person at her side during the fallout. She loved you so much and knew you’d done everything you could to help her.”

“She’s at peace now, I suppose.” He gazed up and sniffled at me through watery eyes.

As I nodded, two fat tears rolled down my cheeks. “Right now, I’ll bet she’s looking down at you, proud of what you’ve become.”

“Do you think so?”

My voice was choked with tears, and I forced out the words, “Yes. No one in this academy works so hard and so selflessly to protect others.”

“But I could do more. I—”

“Stop being so hard on yourself.” I gave his shoulder a hard squeeze. “You’re a student, just like everyone else, but you still work harder than the teachers to protect others.”