-Blake West:
I followed Elena through the grand hallways of the Collins mansion, leaving a trail of wet footprints behind me. The house hadn't changed. Still too cold. Still too perfect. I remembered it bigger when I was a kid. Or maybe I'd just grown into the spaces that once swallowed me whole.
"Careful with the steps, sweetheart," Elena said gently, her hand hovering near my arm as if she was afraid I'd collapse. I appreciated her kindness, but I hated how fragile she made me feel.
I shivered, my wet clothes clinging to me like a second skin. My hair dripped down my forehead. I couldn't even see clearly. My glasses were gone. I felt blind in every sense.
And then I heard it.
"He's dripping water all over the floor." A cold, sharp voice that sent a chill through me worse than my soaked clothes. I turned my head slowly, blinking through the blurry mess that was my eyesight.
Rina.
Zade's mother.
She stood there like she owned the air around her. Which, in a way, she did. Tall. Immaculate. Not a hair out of place in her smooth dark bun. Lips painted the color of dried blood. Eyes as warm as frozen steel.
And beside her—Chris.
I recognized her from the silhouette. She'd grown. Taller than I remembered. Prettier, too. But her mouth twisted into a sneer the moment our eyes—what little I could see—met.
"I thought you said we were expecting family, Mommy," Chris said bitterly.
Rina didn't smile. "We were."
I flinched.
Elena opened her mouth, but Rina silenced her with just a glance.
Then Rina's eyes dragged up and down my body.
"Honestly... the way you've let yourself go, Blake." Her voice was quiet, but every word landed like a slap. "Your mother would be ashamed."
Chris snorted. "God, can you imagine having to explain to people that we're family? He doesn't even look like one of us."
Rina's nails clicked against her wedding ring as she crossed her arms. "That's because he isn't."
I couldn't speak. I felt frozen, my throat tight. My eyes burned—not just from the chlorine, not just from the lack of glasses. From shame. From their voices cutting through me, slicing away whatever defenses I'd thought I had left.
Elena, bless her, whispered, "That's enough." But even she sounded afraid.
Then, a softer voice. Nervous, younger.
"Mom... please. Can you stop?" I blinked, turning my head toward the voice. Zade's younger brother. Ian. He stood there, awkward and small, wringing his hands.
"Don't talk back," Rina snapped without even looking at him. Her attention was solely on me. "You'll be staying in your mother's old room. Elena, take him there."
I found my voice, cracked and fragile. "M-Ma'am... I... can I... can I stay in my old room instead?"
Rina's lips twitched into something between a smirk and disgust. "Your old room? That's Chris's room now."
Chris grinned like she's just won a prize.
Rina continued, merciless: "And there are no empty rooms at the moment. Unless you'd prefer the couch. Or the floor." I swallowed. Hard.
"N-no. That's... that's okay."
"Good." Rina's heels clicked as she turned, her voice already fading as she walked away. "Enjoy your mother's room."
I didn't say anything else.
I couldn't.
Elena led me upstairs. Every step felt heavier than the last. My skin itched from my wet clothes. My eyes stung from tears I refused to let fall.
When we reached the door, Elena hesitated before opening it.
"I'm sorry about them, sweetheart," she whispered, not meeting my eyes. I nodded. She left me there. The room smelled the same. Lavender. And something else. Memories.
I stepped inside and sat carefully on the edge of the bed. The sheets were freshly changed, but it didn't matter. This was my mom's room. Her ghost lingered in the walls, in the curtains, in the dust motes floating through the sunlight.
I reached for my suitcase. Unzipped it. Carefully, gently, I pulled out the small urn. I cradled it to my chest. And I cried. I didn't want to. I tried to be strong. But I cried.
I don't know how long I sat like that, rocking slightly, hugging the last piece of her I had left. My breathing shook. My whole body felt cracked open.
A soft knock on the door startled me. I wiped my face quickly. "C-come in." The door creaked open.
"Hey..." His voice. I looked up, blurry-eyed, and saw a shape. Tall. Lean. Familiar.
Zade.
I wiped my face again. My cheeks burned.
"I found these." He stepped closer, and I could see him holding something in his hand. I blinked, and through the haze, I recognized them.
My glasses.
I reached for them with shaking hands. "Thank you."
"Sorry they got wet," he said awkwardly. When I put them on the world clicked back into focus.
Zade Collins stood in front of me, dripping slightly from the pool, his hair a damp mess. His eyes—blue, bright, and unsure—watched me.
And he smiled. "Hi."
"Hi," I whispered, heart pounding far too fast.
"I'm really, really sorry," he blurted. "For earlier. With the dogs. And for pushing you in. I wasn't thinking. I—God, it's just something I do sometimes. To stay fit. I let the dogs chase me. It's stupid. I should've been careful."
I shook my head quickly, too quickly. "No. No, it's fine. Really. It's your house. You can do whatever you want."
He looked around the room, frowning slightly. "Did you... did you want to stay here? In this room?"
I hesitated. I wanted to tell him. God, I wanted to say, No. Please. Get me out of here. But I didn't. Instead, I forced a small, broken smile. "Yeah. It's okay. Just... memories and stuff."
Zade nodded slowly. Like he wasn't sure if he believed me. But he didn't press. "I, um... I'll leave you to rest," he said softly. "But... if you need anything. Anything. I'm just across the hall."
"Thanks." He turned to go, then paused in the doorway. "Oh. And... Blake?"
"Yeah?"
He smiled again. "I'm really glad you're here."
I didn't know what to say. So I just said the only honest thing I could. "Me too."
Even if it wasn't true.
Not yet.