“You’re a good brother,” he says.
It hits me square in the chest. If he only knew. If he only had the faintest idea how un-brotherly my thoughts about Harper actually are. How only half a week ago, her body was tangled around mine with my hands all over her skin.
“She’ll be okay,” I tell him, though I don’t know if I believe it. “She just needs time.”
Silas nods again, then turns and walks back down the hallway. I hear him murmur something to Mom, their quiet footsteps retreating down the stairs, and the soft click of their bedroom door closing.
And then silence.
I lean against my doorway, adrenaline still fizzing in my blood. My hands are shaking, and my pulse won’t slow down.
I count my breaths. Four in, hold four, four out. Four in, hold four, four out.
It’s not working.
My hands find my pockets. Thumb to index, index to middle, middle to ring, ring to pinky.
Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.
I can’t believe I just did that—stood up to Silas Tucker. Broke one of my core rules about keeping thepeace. About not causing conflict. About staying invisible and safe and?—
Rule #7: Don’t disappoint Mom.
But I didn’t disappoint her. I protected Harper. That’s different.
Rule #898: Protect Harper at all costs.
New rule. I need to write it down. Need to document it. Need to make it official.
My hands are still shaking when I pick up the pen.
For once, I didn’t just keep my head down and play the role of the good son, watching mute from the sidelines. I stepped in. I protected someone who needed protecting.
Harper.
This is starting to become a pattern. The thought lands heavy and warm in my chest as I settle back in front of my desk and the YouTube video I was watching and my open Discord chat where everyone’s fucking around like we do on a Friday night—at least Kevin and Sara and Miles—until the quiet starts getting to me.
My eyes keep drifting to the shared wall between my and Harper’s rooms.
Is it...too quiet?
I check my watch. 8:15 p.m.
Last sound I heard from her room: 6:47 p.m. Footsteps. Bathroom door closing.
That’s one hour and twenty-eight minutes ago.
88 minutes.
5,280 seconds.
How long can someone go without making noise? What’s a normal amount of silence?
I try to remember my own patterns. How long do I go without making a sound when I’m studying? Ten minutes? Twenty?
But 88 minutes?
I check my watch again. 8:16 p.m.