surprised by his words. His gaze still assesses the stars. My mother never told me that. Another secret among many.
“Every couple of years she’d come, like she felt responsible for the pike she delivered in the dead of night in an underground house to a family who didn’t understand him. She’d do her little mortal checkup, see how I was progressing. It seemed to settle my grandma’s worries.”
Something in his voice has changed. He’s not the careless, confident hybrid he portrays. There’s pain and sadness in his words.
“I didn’t grow like a normal boy. I didn’t go through normal growing pains as other children did. I never got sick or had scraped knees. When I was ten, I fell from this roof.” He looks at me with a hint of a smile on his lips, but it’s gone in an instant. “I didn’t tell anyone … There was nothing to tell, really. No bruises, no broken bones, just another reminder that I was different from the other kids.” His eyes drift over the sky.
“So, Charlotte checked in on me and my grandparents. She studied me like she does the others imprisoned in Compound 186.” He says the numbers like they’re heavy for him to speak. “I was her secret project.” He pauses, his eyes narrowing. I hang on his every word. “I hated her.” The confession comes out quiet, but he quickly regains his voice.
“I was everyone’s secret. Kept from the only brother I had. They were afraid I’d be caught. I understood that, but it didn’t stop me from looking for him. We were friends the moment we met. I was the hybrid reflection of himself. I amazed him with my abilities, and he amazed me with his lack of hate for what I am. A decade passed, and our short interactions were the only thing I looked forward to. As much time as we spent together, I’m surprised I didn’t cause us trouble sooner.” His words trail off quietly.
My heart sinks so low in my chest it might never come back up.
He looks at me out of the corner of his eye, his dark lashes lining the sadness in his eyes. I want to comfort the friend I’ve grown so close to, I want to remind him that I am his friend. I reach my hand out to his, my fingers drifting into his with ease. His face still holds the tragic memory. Asher will always hold these memories, but right now, I’ll hold them with him.
“When I was caught and taken to the compound, I had no idea who you were to Micah. Just another human who despised me for what I am.” My heart sinks because he’s right in a way, and I can’t correct him. His words aren’t angry, just factual. “But what fate knew and I didn’t was that my brother spent all his short life excelling at academics, just like you. Struggling to accept politics, but desperate to help his community, just like you. All so he could be matched with the beautiful, quiet girl that glared at me through the window of Compound 186. All so he could die just before your union. All so I could meet that beautiful girl, the daughter of the woman I loathed. All so she could remind me of what my brother taught me all my life.”
My chest rises and falls as the warm air fills my heavy lungs. My eyes are wide, taking in every vulnerable part of him. Every part of me is alive with turning, conflicting emotions.
“He taught me that not all humans are bad. A few have clean hearts. Souls that, even under the shadows of life, still shine within.”
His sweet, sad words warm my chest, and my eyes start to water as I realize I lost Micah, a boy I’ll never know, but Asher lost his brother, the only person who understood him.
“I feel guilty and blessed every time you look at me. Like Micah should be here in my place, but I can’t stop myself. I’m addicted to your smile and your resilience and your ability to look past what someone appears to be.” His voice is a whisper, his eyes blink rapidly. “I ruined his life just by existing. First my mother’s, then his … and now yours.” I shake my head at him, rejecting his words, but he keeps going. “What if I hurt you, too? My own trifecta of tragedy.” His fingers trace my jaw line, his