Chapter 32
THIRTY-TWO
By the time we reach the gate to Kai’s house I’m already regretting every life decision that led me here.
The thing is a fortress.
No matter how many times I come here, I’m still in awe. Every time.
We stop at a gate, a sleek iron one framed by tall stone pillars. Beyond it, I can already see the property, the long driveway leading up to the kind of mansion that shouldn’t even exist in real life.
And—is that a camera? I tilt my head slightly, staring directly at the beeping red light at its centre.
Fortunately, Kym’s sudden movement breaks me out of whatever trance I was in. Because I just now realize what the beeping light actually means. That someone was watching me gawking at the camera like a complete idiot.
Good work, Addie. You never fail to embarrass yourself at the most inconvenient times.
Kym steps up to the keypad, entering a code in.
2108
I was prepared to call someone, because the keypad had completely slipped my mind.
And Kai failed to mention it to me when I was here last time.
I blink at her, stunned. “You still remember the code?”
She doesn’t look at me. Doesn’t pause. Her fingers move smoothly over the numbers, like they’ve done this a thousand times before.
“I came here a lot,” she says simply.
I watch her, then the gate, then her again, trying to process this tiny revelation.
I shouldn’t be that surprised. Kym is Will’s sister, and Will has always been in this world. So that must mean Kym grew up here, too.
Though she doesn’t seem to have any ties to it anymore. She even introduced herself as Lawrence in class, so it’s clear she wants nothing to do with them.
Yet, she’s here? I did think it was strange when she agreed to come with me.
The gate groans as it swings open, revealing the sprawling property beyond. A long driveway, pristine hedges trimmed within an inch of their lives, lights casting an expensive kind of glow over everything.
The mansion itself looms in the distance, sleek, grand, and wholly ridiculous.
I glance at Kym, lowering my voice. “You don’t talk to Will anymore, do you?”
Her face remains blank. “No.”
A pause.
“What happened?” I ask, softer this time.
“We lost contact a few years ago.” She says it so evenly, so carelessly. Like it doesn’t mean anything.
But it does.
I don’t push.
Because losing a brother—whether it’s by choice, by distance, or by something else entirely—is tough.
And now I feel even worse for bringing her here, for bringing her to him.
I slow my pace slightly. “Are you sure you’re okay being here?”
Kym doesn’t even blink. “I wouldn’t have come if I knew it’d be an issue.”
It’s said with such finality that I almost believe her. Almost because I’m not entirely convinced that there won’t be any issues.
Then, just off to the left, I see a beautiful oak tree.
It stands apart from the house, set back near the edge of the property, its massive limbs stretching wide, almost skeletal. The bark is rough, deep grooves and cracks running through it like the wrinkles of something ancient, something that’s been here longer than any of them.
Even now, in the dead of winter, bare branches rattling in the cold, it feels alive.
And it’s occupied.
Liam is perched on one of the lower branches, legs swinging lazily as he looks down at Kai, who’s sat against its base, leaning back against the trunk, hands stuffed into his coat pockets.
His head tilts slightly to the side as Liam says something to him that I can’t catch.
Whatever it is, it makes Kai’s lips curve into a small, knowing smile.
To his left, Christian nods on, but doesn’t say anything—his gaze flicking between the two.
Then there’s the mess happening closer to the house. Will stands just beyond the tree arm stretched high above his head, his camera dangling from his fingers. It’s just out of reach from Lilia, who is pissed.
She lunges again, nearly knocking into him, but he sidesteps with stupidly quick reflexes for someone who probably doesn’t even take this seriously. It’s hard to tell what’s going on in his head, and it’s even harder to tell whether or not he’s just putting on a facade.
Watching from over Christian’s shoulder, Bea stands with her arms crossed, her expression caught somewhere between boredom and concern. Her narrowed eyes move between Will and Lilia, like she’s waiting for one of them to do something even more stupid.
Beside me, Kym lets out a sigh, shaking her head. “Even in winter,” she mutters, staring up at the oak tree, “it’s still their favourite place to be.”
I glance up at it again.
I mean, it’s a pretty cool tree.
If I had more upper body strength, even a sliver, I’d probably try climbing it too, sit at the top and just exist there for a while, watching the world move below me.
Instead, I turn back to Kym. “Has Will always been this obsessed with his camera?”
She doesn’t even pause. “For as long as I can remember.”
I let out a short laugh, shaking my head.
Yeah. That sounds about right.
Bea finally locks eyes with us, and her entire face lights up. She straightens, takes a deep breath, and then—
“Addie! Kym!”
The sudden yell even freaks me out a little bit, be it because I had completely zoned out watching them just seconds before.
And poor Liam just—drops.
Like, literally. One second he’s balanced perfectly on the branch, and the next, the branch wobbles, his arms flail, and he plummets. It’s not even a graceful fall—there’s no attempt to catch himself, no last-minute grab. He just goes straight down.
There’s a very distinct, very solid thud as he lands on his back, arms splayed out, limbs sprawled, breath punched out of him.
For half a second, everything goes still.
Kai—who has been watching the whole thing from a front-row seat—presses his lips together, shoulders shaking, clearly biting back a laugh.
Lilia doesn’t even try to hold it in.
She cackles. Full-blown, unfiltered laughter, doubling over as she points at Liam’s motionless form on the ground.
Still sprawled on his back, Liam groans dramatically. “A little warning next time, please, Beatrice,” he grumbles, still rolling slightly from the impact.
Bea doesn’t even blink. “I thought I told you to stop calling me
that.”
Liam lets out another pained noise, lifting a weak hand. “And I thought I told you I like to live dangerously.”
No surprise there.
Lilia snorts, nudging Bea. “I give that fall a solid eight out of ten.”
Liam groans louder, throwing an arm over his face. “I hate all of you.”
Lilia sprints toward us, full speed, zero hesitation, cutting straight through the middle and throwing her arms around both Kym and me.
“I knew you’d come!” she grins, her head tilting slightly between us, practically buzzing with energy. “You guys came at the perfect moment.”
I side-glance at Kym, who unsurprisingly remains completely stiff under her hold. Absolutely unmoving. And if looks could kill, Lilia would be a snow angel.
Behind her, Liam finally starts the slow, painful process of peeling himself off the ground.
He rocks forward slightly, then flops back down with a defeated groan before trying again.
Once he’s upright—though still slightly hunched—he squints and looks around, one hand gripping his head like he’s assessing whether he still has a functioning brain.
A part of me is slightly concerned that he has a concussion or something.
“We made a plan,” he says, his voice still hoarse. Will, standing nearby, leans in just enough to make sure he sees him, but far enough away that Liam can’t actually reach him. “We?”
Bea lets out an exaggerated sigh, crossing her arms. “Yeah, I don’t recall you being of any use.”
Liam doesn’t argue. He doesn’t even look at her. He simply stares ahead, slow-blinking and completely out of it.
Then, after a beat, he rubs his eyes, finally seeming to recognize the rest of us. His gaze lands on Kym, and his face lights up.
“Oh, Kymmy, you’re here too!”
Kymmy?
I turn to Kym, raising an eyebrow, because I didn’t think they were very close.
She doesn’t speak or move. Just stares at Liam, her expression unreadable, except for the fact that her eyes have gone dangerously sharp.
She’s glaring at him, and there’s so much emotion behind it all of a sudden that I’m almost shocked. And confused. Because this is the opposite of what she’s usually like.
The opposite of what she’s like with anyone else.
It’s a glare that would naturally scare anyone. Could make any living being break into nervous laughter or fumble for a quick apology.
Liam, though?
He smiles.
Not a smirk, not a teasing grin. A full, wide, genuine smile, like he’s actually just happy she’s here. Like he enjoys her presence even if it’s one sided.
Kym’s nostrils flare just slightly.
I brace myself for impact, but before she can unleash what I’m sure would be a verbally scalding response (because those seem to come out around Liam) another voice cuts through the cold air.
“Have you moved out yet?”
Not Kym.
Kai.
His tone is casual, but his gaze is anything but. And he’s watching me—with the kind of intensity that could pin someone to a wall. It would’ve unsettled me before—even a few weeks ago—but not now. Now, I’m used to it.
That’s almost worse.
His gaze moves over my face, and then, lower.
I know exactly where he’s looking before he even settles there—just below my eye.
I hate that I know, hate that he knows, hate that he still looks at it all the time.
I swallow, ignoring the way my pulse ticks higher, forcing my voice to stay even. “Not yet.”
Then, something clicks in my mind, something I’d almost forgotten. I straighten slightly. “Did you talk to my sisters?”
The shift in Kai is subtle, but it’s there. A slight pull at the corner of his mouth, a quiet, knowing smirk. He doesn’t look at me when he answers. Instead, his gaze flicks to Will, who’s already watching him.