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I gasp, breathing heavily. Carson kneels in front of me, eyes full of tears. “You’re okay, baby, everything is okay.”

“It isn’t true. Tell me it isn’t true.”

“I’m sorry, Alexis, I’m so sorry.”

I wail, clutching my chest. Everything is ruined now. The picture in my head is tainted with cruelty. “We just wanted to sleep. We were two little kids who wanted to sleep.”

“Can I take her home now?” Carson asks, my head drops against his chest, my mind reeling, going through what I discovered. Micah was alive. He was calling for me. I tried to save him. All this time I blamed myself, but I tried. I really tried. He didn’t die instantly. They had lied to me for years. I stand up with shaky legs, staring into Officer Stanton’s eyes.

“Simone. He was calling someone called Simone.” He writes it down. Carson lifts me the moment my legs collapse, I don’t remember him carrying me to the car, or into the house, or how he talked to Ash, and how they brought me to bed. I only remember my brother’s voice as he was pleading for help.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Carson

She’s quiet as I lift and carry her out of the house. She’s looking at something that doesn’t exist. Her unblinking eyes are open as I sit her down in the passenger seat.

“You’re going to be okay, baby.”

She doesn’t respond. It’s like she doesn’t hear me. She’s awake, but stuck in her own world. I drive as fast as I can. The sound of her breathing is the only signal she’s still here. I park in her driveway, circle the car, then lift her in my arms, ringing the doorbell, hoping Asher is there. He opens the door, smiling. But it falters when he sees Alexis, her limp body in my arms. “Is she sleeping?” he asks worriedly.

I shake my head. “I think she’s in shock.”

“Shock? Was it that bad?”

I carry her up the stairs and place her gently on the bed. I wave my hand in front of her face. Nothing.

“Alexis?” Asher sits near her head, stroking her cheek. “Can you hear me?”

Nothing, not a single movement. My hands shake from the adrenaline that’s flowing through my body. I take her shoes off, followed by my own, and join her in bed, not minding that the stiff denim of my jeans restricts my movement.

The only thing that matters is that she’s comfortable. I lift her motionless body and lay her on my chest.

I hope that listening to my heartbeat will calm her down. I stroke her back and talk to her in a soft-spoken tone. “You’re safe with me, baby. You can rest now.” I kiss her hair, my lips lingering for a few seconds. “No one will hurt you, I promise. I’ll protect you. Maybe tomorrow, we can start on your new puzzle. Hmm? I know you’re excited about that.”

Asher leans over my and Alexis’s tangled bodies and whispers, “She’s asleep.” I release the breath I was holding. Keeping my arms tightly wrapped around her. “What happened?” Asher asks, sitting on the bed near my feet. “Did it go so bad?”

I swallow hard. I don’t know if it’s up to me to tell him this, but from the way she’s shutting down right now. I don’t think she would like to tell this story again. “Did she tell you what happened to her and her brother?”

Asher nods, clasping his hands on his thighs. “Yeah, she told me about the things she remembered.”

“When we entered the house, they had turned it to what it was the day it happened. The bedroom included.”

“Oh fuck.” Asher covers his mouth with his hand

“At first it went okay. She was crying, of course. But not, like this.” I point to Alexis, her now-sleeping body.

“They always told her that Micah died instantly.”

“Yeah, she told me that. He didn’t suffer at all—” Asher’s face falls. “They lied?”

I nod. “They found blood in his lungs, which means—”

“That he was still breathing, he was alive, or at least for a little while.”

“Yes, exactly. He was alive when the firefighters came. He was asking for Alexis.” Asher sucks in a hard breath. “He died in the firefighter’s arms. They found Alexis on the floor…” I glance up at the ceiling, trying to keep my emotions at bay. The pain in my chest worsens, not for me but for the resilient woman lying on my chest. She is the most selfless person I know. Even at eight years old, she could only think of her brother, while she was suffering from a slit throat and a stab wound in her stomach.

Asher’s lips tremble as he shakes his head. “Oh, my god.”