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I grin, despite the heaviness of everything that surrounds his brother and the situation he’s in. I can feel the warmth of the connection between us, even through the crackle of the phone line. Ash’s laughter dies away quickly and I hear him exhale, the sound a little shaky.

‘You get me. More than anyone else does,’ he whispers.

‘Promise me we’ll always be like this,’ I say softly. ‘Even when things get hard, or life feels impossible. Let’s always be there for each other.’

‘I promise,’ he says. ‘Always.’

At this moment, I believe him. Even if the world outside is messy and cruel, at least we have each other. We have somewhere safe to come back to, a reason to keep going. We’re both quiet again, lingering in the comfort of the conversation, when I hear him clear his throat softly.

‘How’s your sister doing?’ His voice is gentle, casual, but there’s something underneath it, a careful weight that makes me pause.

I blink, caught off guard. ‘Uh … she’s okay, I guess. Why?’

‘Just curious,’ he murmurs, like it’s nothing, but I hear the faint undercurrent of interest, the way he lingers on the question. Something bristles in me at the mention of her. I frown slightly, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear.

‘She’s fine,’ I repeat, and there’s a little hesitation in my voice, though I try to sound casual.

Of course he’s asking about her. Everyone does. It doesn’t matter where I am or who I’m talking to, she always finds her way into the conversation, bright and effortless and impossible to ignore.

‘She doesn’t need you worrying about her,’ I say, my tone coming out far more biting than I expected, my own words surprising me.

There’s a pause on the other end and I clench my teeth together in irritation, frustrated at myself for having reacted this way, but even more frustrated that he asked about her in the first place. I know he has seen what she looks like – she’s all over my social media – and honestly, I’m surprised he hasn’t asked more about her, sooner.

‘I wasn’t—’ he starts, then stops, like he’s choosing his words carefully. ‘I just wanted to make sure she’s okay. It sounded like she was having a hard time too, after some things you said.’

I press my lips together, heat creeping up my neck as I focus on calming myself down. I’m irrational when it comes to her.

‘She’s completely shut me out, but she’s had no problem settling in here. She’ll probably be the most popular girl in school by the end of the second week.’

I hate how small I sound, how the comparison slips in even when I don’t want it to. In my head, I see her the way everyone else probably does: prettier, smarter, more radiant than me. The kind of person people orbit without even realising they’re doing it. The kind of person no one ever forgets to ask about. She steals the show and, in the past, it seemed like her goal was to be noticed, although I can’t help but admit there has been a definite change in her behaviour lately.

‘Why do you care?’ I ask, sounding far tenser than I hoped.

‘Because she’s your sister,’ he says simply. ‘And because you matter to me.’

That wasn’t the answer I was bracing for. I close my eyes and lean back against my pillow. I want to believe him. I want him to be mine, uncomplicated and untouched by comparisons. I want this – us – to be something that doesn’t get swallowed by her light.

‘Okay,’ I say finally, barely above a whisper.

‘And Grant? How’s he been?’

‘Same as usual, I guess.’ I look to the ceiling, wondering why he would ask, why he would even want to know.

‘Huh,’ he says quietly, and I frown. I feel a strange shiver crawl along my spine. The questions are small, harmless even, but in the way he asks them, it’s as if he already knows something I don’t. A flicker of unease worms its way through me, and I can’t help but glance around my room, half expecting him to somehow be here.

‘Thanks for asking about them. It’s nice that you care.’

‘Of course. You’re important to me.’

I bite my lip, curiosity and unease swirling together in my gut. There’s something in the way he asked that lingers, and I can’t shake the feeling that he knows more than he’s letting on. I don’t know what he could possibly know that I don’t, but I can’t shake the feeling.

Fighting off a yawn, I stretch, my hands bumping against my bedhead.

‘You’re tired,’ he murmurs. ‘I better let you go. Goodnight, Cherry. Thanks for calling. It was nice hearing your voice.’

My earlier thoughts melt away and I smile. ‘You too, Ash. Goodnight.’

I set the phone down and stare at it for a long moment, my fingers lingering on the screen as though they can still feel him on the other end of it. I let out a deep sigh. I don’t know why I’m feeling uneasy about his questions. There’s something beneath the surface, something I can’t quite name.