“I had the clasp fixed years ago.” He clears his throat. “I actually gave it to Remi for when Elijah gets older, but she wanted me to give it back to you.”
A soft smile pulls up my lips as I run my finger over the cross. I hold it back out to him. “I want you to give it back to her. I think Elijah should keep it.”
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely.”
With a nod, he takes the necklace and puts it into his pocket.
“There’s something I want to mention to you.” He looks down at his boots for a moment then lifts his head. “I have a friend, Luke Stoops, who’s a psychologist. He has an office in San Antonio, but he’s willing to make a trip out here to speak with you.”
My stomach dips. It’s not like I don’t know I probably need to speak with someone after everything I’ve been through. Many people who experienced what I have would be severely unstable. I consider myself lucky. I have problems, but they could be so much worse.
Sensing my discomfort, Trouble shifts so he’s fully facing me.
“Emo’s told me about your nightmares,” he enlightens me quietly. “It might do you good to talk with someone.”
Even though I advised Thea that talking to a stranger may help her, to do so myself sends dread and unease creeping through me. I hate the thought of talking to someone I don’t know about my horrific past. They may try to understand and help, but unless they’ve been in a similar situation, there’s no way for them to know exactly what needs to be done to help. All the help I need is right here in Malus. My brother, Elijah, Judge, JW, and Mae. They are the calm to the raging storm in my head because they were there.
“I don’t know.” I bite my lip.
“Will you at least think about it?”
I pull in a deep breath. “Yeah.” It’s the least I can do for my brother.
We stand in silence for several moments before I turn to him. He gives me a questioning look. I take a fortifying breath and will my limbs to work. Sweat breaks out on my forehead, and my hands start to tremble.
His questioning look turns to concern while I stare at him with desperation.
“Rella, what—”
I don’t let him finish. “Just wait,” I croak.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I count to five in my head. I can do this. This is my brother.
Opening my eyes, I take a small step forward on shaky legs. His eyes widen and fill with longing. It’s that look that gives me the courage to take another step. It’s the yearning in my soul to be close to my brother that gives me the bravery I need to slowly reach up and touch his cheek.
He holds real still, like he’s afraid the slightest movement will frighten me, and closes his eyes. A soft sigh falls past his lips. I suck in a breath through my own lips and let it out slowly. I let my hand drop from his cheek and press myself closer to him, tentatively wrapping my arms around his waist. Resting my head against his chest, I hear the rapid beat of his heart.
He doesn’t move or even breathe for several seconds, then he slowly lifts his arms and wraps them around me. A sob escapes me, and I squeeze him tighter. It feels strange, yet familiar to be in his arms again. I didn’t realize how much I missed him until this moment.
We stay just as we are for a while. Neither talking, both of us barely breathing, scared to break the moment.
“Thank you,” he says softly against the t
op of my head.
I pull back and tip my head to him. The same eyes I see every day in the mirror stare down at me.
“Thank you,” he says again, “for giving me this.”
“Thank you for waiting,” I reply quietly.
Leaning down, he gently presses a kiss against my forehead before letting me go.
We both turn away from my grave and walk back over to Aziah. As we do, a lightness I don’t ever remember feeling fills me.
MY THROAT TIGHTENS AND the back of my eyes sting with unshed tears as I flip to the next page. Looking at my mother’s life through a picture album is bitter sweet. I’m glad I have these small glimpses, but it hurts to know I’ll never get to meet her.