“I don’t know, Zach,” he worries.

“All I care about is seeing her happy again.”

Micah grips Willow’s hand. “I want that too.”

“Then we figure this shit out before she wakes up. We can move both of them into the cabin and figure out what the fuck has happened to Willow. Together.”

“You know, it’s weird seeing you take charge instead of Killian.”

He’s right. I’m never one to put myself in control or call the shots. Killian’s been our protector and caregiver since he was eighteen years old, but right now, he’s as broken as anyone about what happened to Willow.

Someone else has to make this decision. I refuse to waste another second pretending like we don’t all want the same thing. Her. Regardless of what it will cost us.

“You’ve got shit to sort out too if this is going to work.”

He falls silent. “I know.”

“I mean it, Mi. You need to get help. We can’t live like this forever. I love you, brother, and I’m tired of watching you throw your life away.”

I half expect him to bolt from the room and run all the way back to Briar Valley to hide out in his studio. Micah stays put, nodding to himself.

“I will, Zach.”

“I mean it. You need to go back to that therapist and actually try this time.”

Holding firm, I make him look into my eyes as he nods again. This is non-negotiable. If we’re going to be there for Willow in the weeks to come, he needs to lead by example and accept the fact that he needs help.

“Alright, it’s a deal. Let’s get Killian in here and plan what we do next.”

CHAPTER 21

WILLOW

SILHOUETTE - AQUILO

Huddled in the backseat of Killian’s truck, I re-enter Briar Valley much like I arrived. Broken and defeated. My life has changed so much, but somehow, I’m still trapped in the world’s loneliest bubble.

Zach and Killian were there when I was discharged earlier this morning, carrying fresh clothes and a bagged sandwich. I took the comfortable sweats and oversized t-shirt that smelled suspiciously like Killian, leaving the food without a word.

I haven’t spoken since.

I’m not sure how I’m feeling.

Or if I’m even feeling at all.

My entire body is numb. Detached. Caught in a state of disbelief. I didn’t see this cruel twist of fate coming, not for a second. I must be the stupidest person alive because the signs were there all along.

The sickness, fatigue and hormones running wild. Anxiety and headaches. I chalked it all up to the trauma of all that’s happened. Part of me wonders if I knew all along but simply didn’t want to believe it.

That final night in the mansion was one of the worst in my entire life. Mr Sanchez didn’t use protection as he dragged me from my bedroom, kicking and screaming, all the way down to his playroom.

He was so angry, driven by bloodthirst. I’d dared to talk back over dinner, my patience for his taunts wearing thin. In that moment, he wanted to hurt me, punish me, break me back down into the scared little girl he found in that strip club ten years ago.

That’s when I knew I had to run before it was too late. Any longer and he would’ve succeeded in turning me into that person, and I couldn’t allow that. Old Willow wouldn’t have the strength to run, and I needed to do that more than anything.

“Willow?” Zach peers back at me.

I barely lift my head. “Yeah?”