The Adopted Devil

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If you two weren't raised as siblings, I'd hand you over to him for the rest of your life, Mom joked over the Thanksgiving turkey. The entire table erupted into warm laughter.

Beneath the linen tablecloth, my knees knocked together, shaking uncontrollably.

Ezra slowly turned his head toward me. I'd love that, he murmured, his voice a low, smooth drawl.

I was the only one in the room who knew exactly what kind of monster lurked beneath that perfect, golden-boy smile.

The hidden, encrypted drive packed with photos of me stepping out of the shower. The bitter, chalky aftertaste of that spiked cocktail.

The ice-cold hand clamping down brutally over my mouth in the pitch-black dark.

Chapter 1

The doctors told my mom her body couldn't handle a pregnancy, so my parents adopted an abandoned baby left at the hospital entrance. They found him shivering in the freezing cold right before Christmas, and after bringing him home, they named him Ezra.

When Ezra was three, my parents had me. The miracle pregnancy they never saw coming sent them into a frenzy. The day I was born, the family forgot Ezra existed, leaving him locked in the house. It wasn't until the next afternoon, when my dad rushed back to grab a pacifier, that he found a tiny Ezra curled up on the living room sofa.

He hadn't eaten a single thing in over twenty-four hours.

For as long as I could remember, Mom's voice was a constant loop in his ear. "You have to take care of your sister. She's the youngest, the most important piece of this family."

"You need to look out for her, okay? You're the man of the house now. You always let her win."

Ezra swallowed every word of it. He catered to my every whim, spoiled me rotten, and hovered over me like a shadow. Naturally, I adored him. I was his little velcro sister, trailing right behind his heels.

Wherever he went, I followed. Whatever he did, I had to do it too.

When I was three, Ezra started elementary school. I threw a massive fit, desperate to go with him, but my parents shut it down. Deprived of my favorite person for a whole day, I cried so hard I made myself sick and refused to eat. My parents caved.

They forced Ezra to walk all the way back home during his lunch break just to check on me.

The school was miles away. He'd sprint through the front door at noon, only to run back out by one-thirty, half the time barely shoving a sandwich down his throat.

Back then, all I wanted was to grow up fast. I figured once I hit school age, I could stick to him 24/7. Reality hit me like a truck the second I actually stepped foot in a classroom and realized school was actual torture.

But Ezra didn't seem to get the memo. He was infuriatingly brilliant. While I clawed my way to a strictly average C-grade, he never even cracked a book at home, yet he constantly crushed the curve, locking in the top GPA of his grade.

So, my parents made him my personal tutor.

Whether it was the weekend, spring break, or back-to-school party season, whenever his friends begged him to hang out, my parents always shut it down. They forced him to stay locked in the house, tutoring me.

One afternoon in third grade, my parents were out of town. The math worksheets were melting my brain, so I badgered him relentlessly to sneak me out. Ezra hesitated, his jaw tight, but finally gave a stiff nod. He took me down to the neighborhood park, his hand gripping mine like a vise, and we stood by the chain-link fence watching the older boys shoot hoops.

I noticed his sneakers shifting against the pavement, tracking the ball's rhythm. He was dying to get out there. I planted my hands on his back and shoved him toward the court.

"Don't you dare move from this spot," Ezra ordered, dropping to a crouch to level his eyes with mine.

I nodded enthusiastically.

The second he stepped onto the asphalt, my jaw dropped. He was unbelievable. He moved like lightning, sinking shots effortlessly. But it was the grin on his face that floored mea bright, unrestrained flash of teeth I had never seen back at the house.

At home, he was a silent, suffocatingly responsible mini-adult. Out there, under the blazing sun, he was just a kid, grinning like he owned the world.

Seeing him that alive sent a rush of adrenaline right through me. He sank another gorgeous three-pointer, and I forgot his warning, surging forward to cheer him on.

At that exact second, a massive guy on the opposing team took a brutal shoulder check and went flying off the court.

I couldn't jump out of the way fast enough.

A heavy mass of sweat and muscle slammed into me, throwing me violently against the unforgiving concrete.

"Clara!"

Chapter 2

"Clara!" Ezra yelled my name, his voice cracking as he sprinted across the blacktop.

A massive patch of skin was scraped clean off my knee, the blood already welling up and running down my shin. I had never felt physical pain like that in my entire life. I clamped my hands around my leg, sobbing so hard I couldn't catch my breath.

Ezra didn't hesitate. He hoisted me onto his back and carried me all the way home.

When my parents saw the blood, they lost it. They backed Ezra into a corner, screaming at him. Through the crack in my bedroom door, I watched my dad raise his hand and strike him. Hard.

I shoved past the burning sting in my knee and threw myself out the door, wedging my body between them. I bawled, repeating over and over that it was my fault, that I had forced him to sneak me out, that I tripped on my own two feet.

My dad raised his hand again, trying to reach around me, but he froze, terrified of grazing my open wound. He dropped his arm, scooped me up, and carried me back to bed.

After that day, I never saw Ezra touch a basketball again. No matter how hard I begged, he flat-out refused.

During middle school applications, Ezra effortlessly scored a full-ride scholarship offer to the most elite private prep school in the state.

But the academy was a boarding school three towns over. My parents vetoed it immediately. Their excuse? He wouldn't be around to look after me.

I pleaded with them. I swore I didn't need a babysitter and begged them to let him go. They just brushed me off, claiming I didn't understand how the world worked. They told me I was acting generous now, but I'd regret it laterthat I'd be throwing a tantrum and crying for him the second he was gone.

They didn't listen to a single word I said.

In the end, Ezra enrolled in the local public middle school right down the street, guaranteeing he could still clock in for his shift at home every single afternoon.

The guilt ate me alive. He was a straight-A genius, and my mere existence had just robbed him of a golden ticket out.

When I pulled him aside in the hallway to apologize, my voice broke, and the tears spilled over.

Ezra crouched down, his thumb gently swiping a stray tear off my cheek. He told me it was fine. He swore up and down it wasn't my fault. He grabbed my hand and offered to buy me candy down at the corner store, his voice steady and soft.

I buried my face in his thin, bony chest and cried silently into his shirt. At that moment, I believed he was the best brother on the planet.

By the time I finally dragged myself into middle school, I realized Ezra was basically local royalty. Every time he showed up at the front gates to walk me home, a swarm of older girls would conveniently flock around me, their eyes glued to him.

"Your brother is so hot. And smart? I'd kill for a brother like that," they'd whisper behind their hands.

I knew Ezra was good-looking, but I couldn't put my finger on exactly why. On the walk back, his hand wrapped around mine, I'd sneak sideways glances at his profile. He caught me staring once and flashed me a quiet, indulgent smile.

My brother really is gorgeous. I felt a rush of absolute smugness.

"Clara," he started, his tone casual. "Anyone in your grade hooking up yet?"

That flipped a switch in my brain. I perked right up, ticking off the middle-school drama on my fingers. I spilled all the teawho was secretly holding hands under the science lab desks, who was walking the track together after the final bell, who met up at the mall over the weekend and actually hugged.

Ezra stopped dead in his tracks. His eyes locked onto mine, dark and serious. "You aren't doing any of that, are you?"

Heat flooded my cheeks. I wish. The guy I was crushing on didn't even know I breathed oxygen.

Chapter 3

I shifted my weight, twisting the hem of my shirt, and spilled my guts about the guy I was crushing on.

"His name is Gavin," I mumbled. "He's super smart, ridiculously hot, and basically the star of the basketball team Every girl in our grade is obsessed with him, but he's just nice to everyone."

I picked at my cuticles, staring at the pavement. "But I think he treats me differently. He waits by my locker between periods, carries my heavy textbooks for me, and we snapchat all weekend"

I kept rambling until the heavy, suffocating silence finally registered. Ezra hadn't said a word in blocks. He was walking too fast, his jaw clenched tight enough to snap bone, his expression thunderous.

Panic flared in my chest. He babied me so much I constantly forgot he was supposed to be the strict older brother. I sprinted ahead, throwing my arms out to block the sidewalk.

"Please don't tell Mom and Dad!"

Dad's temper had been a ticking time bomb lately. If he found out I was crushing on a boy, he'd storm the school and make a massive scene. My social life would evaporate.

Ezra stopped. His eyes were dead, stripping away all warmth.

"I won't tell them," he said, his voice flat and uncompromising. "But you're going to agree to a few ground rules."

He forced me to delete Gavin's contact right there on the pavement. It stung, but I didn't have a choice. After that, the lockdown began. Ezra was waiting at the school gates the second the final bell rang, and my weekends were revoked.

Throwing fits did nothing. He knew exactly how to play me. One threat about tipping off our parents, and I instantly folded.

Being under his thumb sparked a rebellious itch under my skin. I needed dirt on him. Leverage.

He was gorgeous, a straight-A student, and insanely popular. Girls threw themselves at him constantly. There was zero chance he was clean. But Ezra was a vault; he'd never confess anything to me.

I had to crack into his phone.

One night, while he was in the shower, I slipped into his bedroom like a ghost and snatched his phone off the nightstand.

First target: his text messages. Aside from my thread pinned at the very top, it was a wasteland. I scrolled frantically, but any texts from girls were strictly about AP biology notes or study groups.

Frustrated, I tapped into his camera roll. Nothing but whiteboards. Lecture slides. Homework packets.

Irritation crawled up my throat. I swiped violently, tapping through folders until a locked, hidden album popped up.

Gotcha. A smug grin stretched across my face as I bypassed the lock and tapped it open.

The grin instantly dropped.

My blood ran cold.

The album was packed with pictures of me. Hundreds of them. I didn't even know when he took them. Shots of me lounging at home, sitting in the cafeteria.

Some were taken from angles where I knew for a fact Ezra wasn't even in the room. I had no idea how he got them. There were extreme close-ups of my face while I was dead asleep. Photos of my discarded cheerleader uniform tossed on my bedroom floor.

He had secretly documented everything, hoarding it in the dark.

My brow furrowed, my thumb swiping blindly until it froze hovering over the glass.

The next image hijacked the air from my lungs.

It was me. In the bathroom.

Shot through a microscopic crack in the door. I was in the shower, stripped bare. Thick steam blurred the edges of the frame, my cheeks flushed bright pink from the heat, my wet skin slick with soap suds.

How the hell was this taken? Who took this?!

My pulse exploded against my eardrums. My fingers shook so hard the phone nearly slipped from my grip.

Chapter 4

"Clara?"

His voice sliced through the dead silence right behind me.

I jumped, whipping around.

He had just stepped out of the bathroom. Water dripped heavily from his damp hair, his t-shirt clinging tightly to his chest. He blinked at my panicked reaction. Then, his gaze slowly dropped to the phone in my grip, locking onto the glowing screen displaying my naked body.

Faced with my absolute terror, his lips just curved into a smooth, unbothered smile.

Ezra tilted his head, casually mentioning that the last time I showered, I had yelled for him to hand me a towelhe must have accidentally bumped the capture button when he reached into the cracked door.

To be fair, the angle was wildly distorted, totally out of focus, and heavily blurred by the steam.

I furrowed my brow, demanding to know why he was hoarding a massive, hidden gallery of my photos.

He blamed Mom and Dad. Since they were traveling out of state for business so much lately, they missed me. They ordered him to document my life and send constant updates.

He calmly tapped into his message thread with our parents. Sure enough, the chat was flooded with the exact same pictures.

The breath rushed out of my lungs in a shaking exhale. Jesus. Scared the hell out of me. For a second there, I thought my own brother was a creep.

Ezra swiped over to his Amazon app, pulling up his recent orders to show me. A massive haul of my favorite snacks and that new graphic novel I'd been dying to read.

He looked down at me, a helpless, soft expression crossing his face. "I'm not trying to ruin your life. But dating right now is an absolute no-go."

"You're too young, and it's going to wreck your grades. I've seen it happen to too many people"

Guilt slammed hard into my chest.

My brother bent over backward for me, obsessively looking out for my best interests, and I had the nerve to treat him like a suspect.

I am the worst.

That night at the hotel, Dad booked a family suite. My parents took the master bedroom, leaving Ezra and me to share the adjoining room with two twin beds.

While I showered, the hair on the back of my neck stood straight up. I couldn't shake the creeping, suffocating sensation of eyes burning into my skin.

It had to be leftover paranoia from that blurry photo.

I mentally mocked myself for being so jumpy, brushing it off as pure delusion.

When I stepped out of the bathroom, Ezra was propped up against the headboard, streaming a show on his iPad.

He never watched TV. I had no idea what sparked his sudden interest.

Looking closer, I realized it was the exact teen drama I was currently bingeing.

I crawled onto the mattress and shoved in right next to him to watch.

His arm slid behind my back, hooking me flush against his side. He kept his eyes locked on the screen, engrossed.

A weird flicker of discomfort twisted in my gut, but Ezra's face was completely blank and relaxed.

Right. He's held me a million times since I was a toddler.

Besides, leaning against his solid warmth was ridiculously comfortable. I shoved the awkwardness down and let it go.

The day had wiped me out. Halfway through the episode, my eyelids grew impossibly heavy, and I drifted off.

Somewhere in the hazy, dark space between sleeping and waking, the heat became suffocating. It felt like a massive, heavy weighted blanket was completely wrapped around me, pinning my limbs down.

I mindlessly shoved at the weight, but the second I pushed it away, it coiled right back, trapping me tighter.

Something wet and relentlessly ticklish dragged along the curve of my neck and tucked right behind my ear. It sent an uncomfortable shiver down my spine.

Through the heavy fog of sleep, I registered the sound of Ezra's breathingharsh, ragged, and rough, like he had just sprinted a dead mile.

"Ezra" I mumbled, weakly pushing against his solid chest. "Too hot."

The ragged breathing instantly cut off.

Complete silence.

A second later, a large hand began rhythmically, gently patting my back, while a low rumble in his chest shushed me back to sleep.

I slipped back under the heavy tide of unconsciousness.

I tossed and turned the entire rest of the night.

Chapter 5

When I woke up the next morning, I was tangled in Ezra's sheets. He was sprawled across my twin bed, scrolling casually through his phone.

Heat crept up my neck. I felt terrible for stealing his bed, but Ezra just flashed me a magnanimous smile and let it slide.

Once Ezra started high school, his workload exploded. Even though he still lived at home, he was swamped with AP classes and didn't have the time to guard the school gates every single afternoon.

That rebellious itch flared up again. Mostly because Gavin had gotten ridiculously hot, and by now, I was dead certain he was into me.

I unblocked Gavin's number. We started snapchatting every single night, keeping our streaks alive until two in the morning.

He confessed he'd been crushing on me since day one, but since there was always an older guy waiting to pick me up, he assumed I was taken. He swore he'd been low-key heartbroken about it for months.

I laughed out loud. Why didn't you just ask? That's my brother!

He left me on read for a solid minute before replying: Biological?

I typed back that he was adopted, but we'd grown up in the same house since I was in diapers, so it was basically the exact same thing.

He hit me back with a skeptical meme. For real?

I rolled my eyes and typed: Duh. What else would it be?

Gavin didn't miss a beat. He immediately asked me out to the movies this weekend. I was so insanely hyped I tossed and turned until dawn.

Ezra had an all-day SAT prep boot camp on Saturday, so Gavin and I locked in our plans for Saturday afternoon. As long as I snuck back inside before Ezra's session ended, he'd never know I left the house.

The second the front door clicked shut behind Ezra, I vaulted out of bed. I tore through my closet, swapped outfits a dozen times in front of the mirror, and swiped on a layer of a forbidden lip gloss Mom had left on the bathroom counter. Looking at my reflection, I felt absolutely gorgeous. Like Ezra and I actually shared the same elite DNA.

I floated out the door to meet Gavin. We killed time at the park, roamed the mall, grabbed burgers, and eventually hit the AMC theater.

Halfway through the movie, Gavin's fingers brushed mine in the dark. He slipped his hand over mine, lacing our fingers together.

My heart slammed against my ribs so hard I thought he could hear it.

He leaned in, his breath warm against my ear. "Clara, be my girlfriend."

I'd been waiting almost three years to hear those exact words. Terrified he wouldn't see me in the pitch-black theater, I nodded aggressively.

A low chuckle vibrated in his chest. His grip tightened, locking my hand in his for the entire rest of the film.

We were inseparable all afternoon. It wasn't until Ezra's prep class was dangerously close to wrapping up that Gavin finally walked me home.

"Your brother keeps you on a leash that tight?" Gavin asked, a brow raised in genuine curiosity. "I've literally never seen a brother micromanage his sister like that."

I shrugged, kicking a pebble on the sidewalk. "He's a neurotic overachiever. He's just paranoid a boyfriend will tank my GPA."

Gavin flashed a cocky grin. "Please. I'm rocking a 4.0. Tell him I'm taking over your tutoring from now on."

That effortless, arrogant confidence was exactly why I was so obsessed with him.

We stopped at the edge of my driveway. Under the dim amber glow of the streetlamp, he dropped his voice and asked if he could hug me.

Obviously! I'd been practically vibrating with anticipation all night.

He pulled me in, his movements a little stiff and awkward, but the second his arms wrapped around me, pure dopamine flooded my brain.

"Clara" He murmured my name, his eyes dark and intense as they locked onto mine.

He dipped his head and pressed his lips to mine. I kissed him back, clumsy and breathless. We broke apart, our faces burning hot, staring at each other like idiots with massive, stupid grins.

"Clara."

A voice dripping with ice shattered the moment. My heart seized in my chest.

I whipped around. Ezra's tall, lean silhouette materialized from the shadows near the corner.

His eyes were dead, fixed on us. I was certain he was going to vault forward and beat Gavin into the pavement. I had never seen his face look so terrifyingly hollow and purely hostile.

Pure instinct hijacked my brain. I stepped forward, shoving my body between them to physically shield Gavin.

Ezra's gaze dropped to my protective stance.

The temperature around him seemed to plummet below freezing. The muscles in my calves began to shake uncontrollably.

Chapter 6

Gavin flashed an easy, arrogant grin, wrapping an arm securely around my shoulders. He gave Ezra a nod and stuck out his free hand.

"You must be Clara's brother. I'm her boyfriend, Gavin."

Ezra stepped out of the heavy shadows. The suffocating ice was gone, instantly replaced by his usual polite, golden-boy smile. I blinked, genuinely wondering if I had just hallucinated that terrifying, hollow look seconds ago.

He actually reached out and shook Gavin's hand. "Clara's mentioned you," he said, his lips curving upward.

Gavin kept his grip firm on my shoulder, his voice completely serious. "I know what you're worried about, man. Clara and I both have finals coming up. We aren't going to let our grades tank."

"I'm pulling a 4.0, and I'll make sure she stays focused."

Ezra's smile didn't drop a single fraction of an inch. He just gave a slow, measured nod. "Alright. She's in your hands, then."

Gavin beamed, pulling me flush against his side. "Thanks, man. I swear I'm going to take good care of her."

"I've been into Clara for a long time. I'm dead serious about this."

I let out a massive, shaking breath. I honestly never expected Ezra to cave that easily. My cheeks burned hot as I leaned into Gavin's chest. "Thanks, Ezra," I murmured.

Ezra let out a low, barely audible hum. His dark eyes swept over me, but it felt entirely wronglike he was staring straight through my skin, locking onto something miles away.

Every weekend after that was dedicated to Gavin. I just wanted to drag him to the mall, lace our fingers together, and make out in the back of his car.

But Gavin was relentless. Instead of taking me out, he dragged me to the public library, acting more like a strict AP tutor than a boyfriend. Honestly, I was starting to suspect he didn't want a girlfriend at allhe just wanted a heavily caffeinated study buddy.

I finally snapped and threw my highlighter at his head.

Gavin just laughed, dodging the marker, and pulled me onto his lap. He pressed a kiss to my temple and confessed he'd struck a deal with my brother.

If Gavin swore to keep me away from the shady party crowds and the underground scene, Ezra agreed to back off. He'd even cover my curfew with my parents so we could stay out late.

"Clara," Gavin murmured, his tone dropping into something incredibly soft. "I'm playing the long game with you. Two more months until the semester wraps up. Let's just push through, okay?"

Trading the wild parties for quiet library corners meant I got to keep Gavin without Ezra breathing down my neck. I figured it was a solid trade.

I had never ground through textbooks that aggressively in my entire life. With Gavin practically acting as my warden every afternoon, my GPA skyrocketed. I shot from sitting comfortably in the middle of the pack straight into the top ten percent of my class.

My guidance counselor was absolutely floored. During my mid-semester check-in, she actually used me as an example of a massive academic comeback. She praised me for staying laser-focused, avoiding high school drama, and keeping my head in the books.

I had to bite the inside of my cheek to stop from laughing out loud. I was only sweating through those practice exams so I could permanently secure my boyfriend.

The next two months vanished in a blur of flashcards and energy drinks. Final grades dropped, and I easily secured my spot on the Principal's List.

Pure adrenaline spiked through my veins when I saw my transcript. I instantly grabbed my phone and dialed Gavin's number.

The line connected. Gavin let out a harsh, hollow sound that was supposed to be a laugh. His voice sounded paper-thin, completely stripped of its usual arrogant warmth.

"Congratulations, Clara."

A heavy, suffocating silence stretched across the line.

"But I completely bombed it. We're done."

Chapter 7

The night before the winter formal, while the bass from the school gym was still rattling the bleachers, Gavin's older sister, Jade, threw herself off the roof of the main academic building.

Gavin's family shattered. He stayed awake in the ICU waiting room the entire night. Two hours before the final exams started, Jade flatlined.

The fact that Gavin even managed to drag himself into the testing center and fill out the scantrons in that state was an absolute miracle.

The second the news dropped, I blew up his phone. I just wanted to be next to him, to grip him tight and anchor him down. But his phone went straight to voicemail. Every single time.

I snuck into Jade's funeral. The black-and-white portrait resting on the easel showed a quiet, fragile girl with a muted, tragic smile. I stood near the back row, my eyes locked on Gavin from across the graveyard. He had lost a terrifying amount of weight, his cheekbones jutting out sharply beneath hollow, bruised eyes.

The arrogant, untouchable golden boy from the basketball court was dead.

Every night, I pulled the heavy duvet over my head. My parents were back from their business trip, so I clamped my teeth down on the edge of my pillow to muffle the sound. I suffocated my own sobs in the dark, gasping for oxygen until black spots danced across my vision.

I didn't even hear the bedroom door open. Ezra abruptly peeled the suffocating blanket back. He silently handed me a glass of water and wiped the dampness from my cheeks with his thumb.

He sat on the edge of the mattress, his dark eyes dropping down to study me as his fingers rhythmically stroked through my tangled hair. "Does it really hurt that much?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

My hands shook violently as I gripped his sleeve. Tears spilled over my eyelashes, blurring my vision as I begged him for answers. Jade was in his gradedid the seniors know anything? Did anyone have any idea why she would just jump?

Ezra slowly shook his head.

He slid under the covers next to me. He pulled me securely against his chest, his palm tracing slow, methodical circles against my spine. The absolute exhaustion from crying finally dragged me under. Just before I slipped into complete unconsciousness, a heavy, scalding breath brushed against my ear, followed by a low, drawn-out sigh.

The next morning at the breakfast table, my parents casually brought up the tragedy. Mom leaned in like she was sharing classified intel, whispering that she heard the girl jumped because of a bad breakup. She practically vibrated with morbid excitement, spilling the local rumorsthat Jade had been secretly hooking up with a mystery guy for the past two months, that he had completely brainwashed her, and her behavior had been totally erratic ever since

Mom shot a sharp glance across the table at Ezra. "Do you guys know who the boyfriend was?"

Ezra calmly set his fork down on his plate. "Jade was incredibly introverted. She was a ghost at school. Even if she was dating someone, no one would know."

He picked up his coffee mug, a smooth, effortless smile curving his lips. "Girls like thatthe ones who are desperately insecure and starved for affectionare exceptionally easy to control."

I stared at that flawless smile. A cold, heavy knot of dread suddenly twisted in my gut.

"Clara, are you listening?" Dad barked, rapping his knuckles sharply against the table. "If I ever catch you sneaking around with a boy, I swear to God I'll kill him myself."

Before I could even open my mouth, Ezra cut in. His tone was perfectly mild, his smile gentle. "Clara would never do that. She's a good girl."

His dark eyes locked onto mine, his voice dropping into that soft, patronizing cadence he used when I was a toddler. "Right, Clara?"

Chapter 8

I officially got accepted into the same elite prep school as Ezra. Since Ezra was heading into his brutal senior year, my parents decided to reward both of us. They booked us a seven-day trip to Savannah, Georgia.

I had absolutely zero desire to go. Gavin had been totally MIA, and I just wanted to rot in my room in case he finally broke his silence and needed me.

But Ezra shut that down. He pointed out that my current zombie-like state was a massive red flag. Dad was bound to notice. Ezra smoothly convinced me it was better to lay low out of state for a few days, promising we could ditch the itinerary and fly right back the second I wanted to.

It made too much sense to argue with.

I leaned against the kitchen counter, watching him scrub the dishes. A low, rhythmic hum vibrated from his chest. Something felt completely off. The rigid, suffocating tension that usually clung to him was gone.

I stared at the relaxed slope of his shoulders for a long time before it finally clicked.

"Ezra," I started, my voice breaking the rhythm of the running water. "Your classmate literally just died. Does that not affect you at all?"

His hands stilled in the suds. He let the silence stretch for a heartbeat before shutting off the faucet. "Sometimes, death is just an exit strategy," he said, his voice flat.

My brow furrowed. You cease to exist. How is that an exit strategy?

Ezra casually grabbed a dish towel, drying his hands with slow, methodical precision. "Jade's family was obsessed with the golden boy. From day one, Gavin was the only kid who mattered. Jade could pull straight A's, cure a disease, and they still wouldn't look twice at her."

He tossed the towel onto the counter. "She couldn't exactly redirect that hatred onto her precious little brother. Her head had been a mess for years. She probably calculated that jumping was the only guaranteed way to finally force her parents to look at her."

A slow, mocking smile curved the corners of his mouth. "It worked perfectly, didn't it? Look at how utterly devastated they are now. If she's watching from somewhere, she's probably calling it a total win."

I had been spoiled rotten my entire life. Even with Dad's fuse getting dangerously short lately, he had never laid a hand on me or actually screamed in my face. I couldn't even begin to process that level of toxic, suffocating neglect.

But staring at Ezra's completely unbothered expression, a sick realization hit me. He understood it perfectly.

A violent shiver crawled straight down my spine, freezing the blood in my veins.

When we touched down in Savannah, I was dead inside. With Mom and Dad miles away, it was just the two of us, meaning I could drop the fake-smile routine.

I slept through basically the entire trip. If Ezra hadn't physically dragged me out of the hotel room, I would have willingly rotted in those high-thread-count sheets for the full seven days.

We were wandering aimlessly through the cobblestone streets of the historic district.

A little kid, maybe seven or eight, suddenly blocked the sidewalk. He took one look at us and launched into a practiced sales pitch, claiming we were the most gorgeous couple he'd seen all day.

"It'd be an absolute crime not to buy your hot girlfriend some flowers, man," the kid sighed, shaking his head like a seasoned hustler.

And there's the pitch. A weak huff of amusement escaped my throat. You had to respect the hustleusing the ultimate couple's guilt trip on a pair of literal siblings just to move some merchandise.

A deep, genuine laugh rumbled in Ezra's chest. He looked incredibly, strangely satisfied. He pulled out his wallet, emptied every single bill he had into the kid's hands, and bought out the entire bucket of overdyed carnations.

He shoved the massive, ridiculous bouquet into my arms. I took it, burying my nose in the petals. The cheap, clashing floral scents hit the back of my throat like cheap perfume. I let out a sharp sneeze.

Ezra's eyes crinkled with absolute warmth as his large hand reached out, softly ruffling the top of my hair.

Chapter 9

We hit a trendy lounge downtown that night, grabbing some overpriced appetizers while the bass from the DJ booth vibrated through the floorboards.

Savannah's nightlife was supposedly ground zero for hookups. I propped my chin in my hand and scanned the room. Sure enough, people were pairing off and grinding on the dance floor in record time.

Ezra was in a weirdly good mood, weaving his way toward the bar to grab drinks and put in a request. I scrolled mindlessly through TikTok, bored out of my skull.

A girl decked out in a skin-tight dress suddenly shoved her way through the crowd and stopped right at my booth. She gave me a conspiratorial wink. "Hey, sweetie. Was that guy sitting across from you your boyfriend?"

I blinked, momentarily thrown off. "Why?"

A suggestive smirk spread across her face. "Because if he isn't, I'd love to borrow him for the night."

My jaw dropped.

I dragged my eyes up and down her figure. Her outfit was incredibly cheap, her makeup was spackled on so thick you couldn't even guess her age, and her perfume was a cloying, suffocating cloud. Back at prep school, literal cheer captains threw themselves at Ezra. He had an absolute army of girls obsessed with him. This girl wouldn't even register on his radar.

I spotted Ezra pushing through the dense crowd, two sleek cocktail glasses balanced effortlessly in his hands. He had shot up over the last year, clearing easily six-foot-two. His frame had completely lost that teenage scrawniness, filling out into something lean, hard, and undeniably striking.

I flashed the girl a sweet, totally fake smile. "Tough luck. He's taken. You're gonna have to find another target."

She rolled her eyes hard and strutted away, her hips swaying aggressively.

Ezra slid into the leather booth across from me, sliding one of the glasses across the table. He shot a glance over his shoulder. "Who was that?"

I laughed, brushing it off, and gave him the rundown of her pathetic little pitch.

For a split second, he went entirely still. A strange, dark flash flickered in his eyes.

He tapped the rim of my glass, nudging it closer. My fingers had barely brushed the condensation when my phone erupted on the table.

It was Gavin.

Gavin finally called!

My heart slammed against my ribs. I shoved out of the booth without a single word to Ezra, sprinting through the heavy doors and out into the humid street to answer it.

The second I heard his voice, my throat slammed shut, and the tears spilled hot over my cheeks.

Gavin's voice cracked through the static, sounding hollow and miles away. He told me his family was packing up and moving two states over. His parents had already listed the housethey couldn't stand being trapped in the exact same rooms where Jade's ghost still lingered. On top of that, Gavin's finals were a complete disaster. His parents were transferring him to a private academy out of state to repeat the year, using whatever connections they had left to wipe the slate clean.

A wet, broken laugh scraped out of his throat. "Clara," he choked out. "I can't be there with you for high school. I messed up. I couldn't keep my promise. If you don't wait for me if you find someone else it's fine."

I heard him drag in a ragged breath, the sound tearing at the edges. "But Clara I love you so much. God, I love you. Can you just wait for me in college? I swear to God I'll catch up to you"

I curled into a tight ball against the brick alleyway, sobbing so hard I was gasping for oxygen.

Finally, I managed to force out a single, desperate yes.

Three or four years of long-distance. I didn't care. I wasn't afraid.

When I finally hung up, Ezra was leaning against the brick exterior under the neon lounge sign. I had absolutely no idea how much he had overheard. Heat crawled up the back of my neck at the thought of him listening to me completely break down over a guy.

But his expression was perfectly blank. He just reached out, wrapping his hand firmly around mine to pull me back inside.

His skin was ice-cold.

It's August. How the hell are his hands this freezing?

We slid back into our booth. The two drinks were exactly where we left them. The crushing weight on my chest had finally completely lifted.

Strobe lights sliced through the heavy haze over the dance floor, and the bass from the speakers vibrated violently against my ribs. I sank back into the booth and threw back several shots of hard tequila.

Chapter 10

"Slow down, Clara. You've never drank this much. It's going to hit you hard."

Ezra frowned, reaching out to block my glass. I just giggled, completely ignoring him as I clinked my rim against his knuckles.

"Come on, Ezra. I haven't felt this good in months. Just take a few shots with me."

Suddenly, a new glass materialized in his hand. The liquid inside was a murky, bruised color, completely different from the tequila I'd been throwing back.

"It's a house specialty," he murmured, his voice dropping into a low, smooth drawl. "Want to try?"

I took the glass. The second the liquid hit my tongue, I gagged. It left a bitter, chalky aftertaste coating the back of my throat. Between the tequila and whatever was in that new glass, the room started spinning. My heart hammered wildly against my ribs, totally out of sync.

The strobe lights smeared across my vision. The neon signs blurred, and Ezra's silhouette fractured into three overlapping shadows. He stood up, sliding into the leather booth right next to me, trapping me against the wall. He leaned in incredibly close, his breath brushing the shell of my ear.

"Wasted already?"

I was entirely gone. Pure instinct made me slump heavily against his side. My skin was burning up, radiating heat, but his chest was ice-cold.

Nausea clawed aggressively up my throat. Everything went pitch black