Chapter 11
Phoenix
We followed her.
The wind off the cliffs was sharp and cold.
When I saw her, she was on her knees, hands trembling as she tried to thread the broken necklace back together—but her fingers wouldn’t work.
She kept trying. Over, over, and over.
“Please,” she whispered. “Just hold. Please.”
The string slipped again. And again. And then—
She screamed.
It wasn’t a cry. It was a sound torn from her lungs like something dying.
Her hands clenched. “Stupid, stupid hands,” she hissed. “I break everything.”
I stepped forward. I wanted to reach out to her—but she leapt like she meant to run.
“Don’t!” she screamed, spinning. “Don’t touch me. Don’t come near me. Don’t look at me like that!”
We all froze.
She yanked on her hair, hard, like she wanted to tear it from her head.
She paced, gasping—trying to breathe, but it was getting too hard.
She clutched at her stomach like she could hold it all in, but her walls were cracking.
Leo looked stricken, his hands half-lifted like he ached to hold her.
Slade’s eyes flicked to me, wide and helpless, like I might have the answers.
But I didn’t.
Not this time.
Not today.
The pieces fell from her hands and scattered across the dirt. She stared at them, not really seeing.
Maddie dropped beside her, gathering the shards gently, cupping them close.
Elle backed away, shaking violently.
“We can fix it, Elle. I’ll fix it for you,” Maddie said, soft but steady. “I’ll glue it or something. It’ll be better than ever.”
Elira’s face twisted.
“It’s too late. It’s too…” She shook her head, breath catching. The devastation in her eyes splintered something inside me.
“I can’t fix it this time.”
Then her gaze lifted to mine—haunted, hollow.
Her next words came barely above a whisper, soft and small. “I can’t fix him, can I?”
She wasn’t really here anymore. Not on this cliff. Not with us.
“I wanted to,” she murmured. “Gods, I tried. But he hurt me. He lied. He tried to take you away from me.”
My fists clenched at the memory. At the truth in it.
“It was too much… it was too hard… I couldn’t do it anymore. I couldn’t be her anymore.”
“Elle,” Leo said softly, his voice breaking.
“I told him I forgave him,” she said. “I looked him in the eye, and I said the words.”
Her voice cracked. Her breathing hitched.
“But I didn’t,” she whispered. “I lied. I lied to his face while he was dying.”
She turned to me. “Who does that, Phoenix?”
My jaw clenched.
Slade stood frozen—grief carved into every line of him. Tears slid silently down Leo’s cheeks.
“He just wanted things to go back,” she said. “That’s all he wanted. And I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to go back.”
She was breaking in front of us, piece by piece, and I could do nothing to stop the torrent.
“He had no one, and I—I just left him!”
She staggered a step away from us.
“And then he came back… after everything. He came back—and he threw himself on a blade for me!”
Her voice broke again.
“Why would he do that? Why?”
Then she turned to the sea and screamed—
A sound so raw it didn’t feel human.
“Why, Finn? You stupid, reckless bastard! Why did you do it?! WHY WOULD YOU LEAVE ME LIKE THAT?”
She screamed again, fists clenched at her sides. Her knees buckled.
She fell.
The sound that tore from her now was pure grief. No fury left.
It made me stagger.
“I let him die,” she sobbed. “Because I froze. Because part of me was relieved. Because I didn’t want to keep running anymore. Because I didn’t love him the way he wanted me to.”
She crumpled, shoulders shaking. Her voice dropped, barely audible.
“But I did love him.”
Silence.
“I loved him, and I still let him die.”
Then she looked up at us—at me. Tears streaking down her face. Snot and dirt on her skin like none of it mattered anymore.
“So tell me—what kind of person does that make me?”
No one spoke.
Because there was no answer.
Then she broke.
Another scream—this one grief, not rage.
She collapsed into the earth, sobbing so hard her whole body convulsed.
And I—I couldn’t breathe.
Slade moved first. He knelt beside her, silent as stone, and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, anchoring her with quiet strength.
Leo followed, easing in behind her.
He rested his head gently against her back, arms encircling her like he could hold her together.
Maddie reached for her hand, lacing their fingers without a word.
I was the last.
Careful.
Slow.
I sat beside her—
Not to fix.
Just to be near.