I heard you changed your name, but after all that’s happened between us, I don’t deserve to use your new one. I’m writing to tell you how sorry I am. This apology is a long time coming, and I’m ashamed that I didn’t believe you. I should have. I’m your sister, and I should have believed you.
So much has happened. I know that you were telling the truth about what Art did to you, what he planned to do to me. It’s too long a story for me to tell it all in an email, but I want you to hear it. I want to beg for your forgiveness in person. I’m here in Savannah, and I want to meet with you.
Your sister,
Dara
I found myself reading the email for the third time without even realizing it. It was like my eyes had to keep going back over each word just to prove that it was real.
I hadn’t spoken to Dara since that night. Like our mother, she’d called me a liar and insisted that Art had never hurt her and would’ve never hurt me. She’d blamed me for ruining our lives. I’d held on to hope for years, but by the time I’d left juvie, I’d lost it. Kaimi had become my sister. Not the same as Dara, but in some ways, better, because the sister I’d chosen had also chosen me. Kaimi had believed me from the first time I’d told her my story. She’d accepted it the way I’d wanted Dara to.
But something had changed.
With Ambrose involved with my case, it made sense that Dara could’ve tracked me down, but it didn’t explain the why. And with this many years having passed, I needed to know the why. If there was any hope of us moving past what’d torn us apart, I needed to know what had finally convinced Dara of the truth.
I sent a short reply.
I’ll meet you at the Cotton Exchange tomorrow, Wednesday.
I couldn’t bring myself to say anything more. I’d already risked my heart by opening up to Bradyn. I was going to be a lot more cautious when it came to my sister. I’d wait until I spoke to her before making any decisions about whether or not I wanted her in my life. At the very least, I could get the closure with her I’d never gotten with our mother.
Thirty-Four
Bradyn
I knew something was off the moment I woke up, but it took me a minute longer to figure out what it was.
I was alone in my bed.
Granted, that wasn’t an entirely uncommon occurrence, but Nyx had been here when I’d fallen asleep. Or, more accurately, passed out.
Great sex was weird in that, sometimes, it made you feel energized, and sometimes, you completely lost consciousness. Last night, it had been the latter. We’d tumbled into bed, had sex again, and then it was lights out.
Judging by how much I needed to pee, I hadn’t gotten up at all, and my stiff muscles said I’d barely even moved. If I’d been alone last night, I doubted I would’ve gotten any sleep at all. Honestly, I doubted if any other woman would’ve been able to make me forget as completely as Nyx did.
After the incident with Antoinette and my father, I’d become…cautious. Not exactly jaded, but I definitely didn’t trust as quickly as I once had. This thing with Nyx, though, it’d taken me by surprise. Being with her felt natural in a way nothing else ever had. Not easy, exactly, because relationships were work. The ones worth having anyway. But it didn’t feel forced with her.
The closest comparison I could think of was how some people talked about their talents or careers. Like the first time a true musician picked up the instrument they were meant to play. Or how an athlete might feel when they picked up a ball or racket or club.
I loved making films, and I considered it an important field. I didn’t really want to do anything else. But it still hadn’t been that sort of click where everything suddenly made sense.
Being with Nyx had.
I couldn’t think of any other way to describe it. And even if I wasn’t ready to actually call it love, I knew that was the direction we were going. If nothing else got in our way, we’d be there sooner rather than later, and the thought didn’t scare me at all.
When I came out of the bathroom, I was surprised to find the kitchen empty too.