Page List

Font Size:

But not as full of it as they were.

“Harry?” The sound of Hannah’s voice pulls me out—but not far enough. I can see her, but my mind is still elsewhere.

I can feel myself dousing everything in kerosene. I can hear my friends howling like wolves as they do the same, and I remember suddenly that this is what we called ourselves:the Wolves. Sometimes, we dressed it up in Latin.Lupi qui non inclusus—the wolves that cannot be caged.Sometimes, we got poetic.Lupi comederunt solem—the wolves who ate the sun.

I remember suddenly that when I heard Colin and David howling, I thought that it was a good thing thatIwas the one with the lighter.

Colin. David.Memories of them crash into me.

Hannah’s eyes search mine. I realize belatedly that she has put out the fire—the one in reality, at least.

The one in my mind still burns.

“We should burn it all down. Right, Hawthorne?”

“The world?”

“The mansion. Hawthorne Island. Let’s hit your father where it hurts.”

Hawthorne.

Hawthorne.

Hawthorne.

The island.

The mansion.

Colin, David—they’re still inside.

I take Hannah’s hand in mine, and the moment I do, I see a girl.

“Come on, rich boy. Live a little! Dance a little. Drink—”

“A little?”

“Just a tiny bit.” She smiles impishly—and raises a bottle of vodka to her lips. Upside down lips.

Her sister’s lips.

Kaylie.

Kaylie.

Kaylie.

The world is on fire. All three of them are still inside—except there is no inside.

And I am drowning.

“Harry—”

This time, at the sound of that name on Hannah’s lips, I come fully back to myself.

“That isn’t my name.” Gone are the voices in my mind. Gone is the howling. And in their place is a lifetime of memories.

My hand isn’t in Hannah’s anymore.Good.I’d claw off my own skin if I could.My fault.My friends, Hannah’ssister—