“Why? What’s changed? Is it because I’m no longer taking the medication? Did it all finally leave my system and all the crazy is allowing me to fully communicate with you?”

He sighs and sits down on the foot of the bed, leaving a mattress length between us. “Your medication is part of the reason things are getting clearer—your mind is getting clear. And because of that—because you’re starting to remember—I’m finally finding peace in my life.”

He looks utterly miserable. I want to reach out and hug him. I’m afraid to do so, though. Afraid my arms will slip right through him. “I don’t understand what you mean.”

“I’m saying,” he sucks in a gradual breath, “that I found my peace in life because soon I won’t be suffering. I almost feel,” his eyes drift to the ceiling, “free.”

Free. Unlike you are now.

Images surface, thick and heavy like dirt.

Ellis can’t breathe.

“How can I help you?” I ask, scooting closer to him. “Tell me what to do.”

“All you can do is remember what is and what will never be.” When his gaze meets mine again, he shifts his weight and extends a hand toward me, but then he notices the ghostliness of his fingers and draws back. “And now I’m going to say goodbye and warn you to get out of Laramie and go some place safe. Some place where you can really hide and never be hurt again.”

My eyes flick to the fresh bruises on my arms then to the open door of the bedroom. “Is someone coming to get me? The person who left the envelope on my doorstep?”

“Yes, they are. And very soon.” He sighs, his silhouette flickering. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t save you from what’s coming. I’m just hoping you’ll finally get peace in your life, too. That you’ll let go of the things you couldn’t control and stop blaming yourself. Let go, Emery. Please, let me go. Don’t continue to torture yourself with things you have no control over.”

“Wait… Ellis… What’s coming for me? Who left the note?” I leap for him, reaching out as he starts to fade away. “Ellis, please don’t go. Not until you tell me what’s going on.”

“I have to,” he tells me with remorse, flickering in and out of focus. “Please, don’t turn out like me, Emery. Let the truth set you free.”

“Truth?” I gape at him incredulously. “You want me to tell Father the truth?”

“No, only someone you can trust. Truth can only be uttered through trust. Truth and trust are linked.”

“I don’t know who you mean. Who can I trust?”

Goodbye, he mouths, and then he’s gone.

I’m left staring at the empty bed, wondering if he was ever really there to begin with. He said he was at peace now, maybe even free. But what does that even mean? Where is he? Who is coming after me? Better yet, who can I trust?

You remember that night? The one when you snuck out. What you saw. What you didn’t want to see. Think of your father. Think, Emery, think. Think about what happened to Ellis. My thoughts attempt to whisper secrets to me, but I’m not sure about anything anymore, other than this is a mad, mad, mad world I’m living in, and I might be the main thing feeding the madness.

I spend the next ten minutes staring into nothingness until I hear a knock on the front door that triggers a nerve. Ellis warned me someone would be coming. Have they made it here already?

The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, a spark of static kissing each one as I reach for the metal box hidden beneath my bed. I lift the lid and grab the gun. For if anyone finds out what you really are, Emery, my father said when he gave the box to me. I’m not sure what he meant, but... A memory creeps into my mind, one I’d forgotten on purpose.

I want to be at peace.

You’ll never be at peace.

“It’s better not to exist than to exist in darkness,” my father said as he gave Ellis a gun. “Make the choice. Make me proud, son. Don’t let your family suffer anymore for your sins.”

Ellis chose to drop the weapon to the floor. “I can’t do it.”

My father, angry and embarrassed, sent Ellis away that night. It was the last time I ever saw him.

I blink from the memory that has been buried in the darkness of my mind, finally spilling out right along with the madness.

The metal of the gun is cold against my clammy hands.

So cold.

So cold like me.

I’m so cold all the time inside.

Carrying the weapon makes me feel sick to my stomach.

Make a choice.

Make a choice.

Make a choice.

I raise the gun as I tiptoe down the hallway. I hear the click of the door lock and freeze. The door creaks open, and then I hear footsteps.

I should run.

But where will I go?

Make a choice.

Make a choice.

Make a choice.

I click off the safety of the gun and suck in a breath as I point the barrel at the end of the hallway. The person rounds the corner and appears in my line of vision.

Make a choice.

Make a choice.

Make a choice.

My brother chose to put the gun down and paid the consequences. My finger rests on the trigger.

Make.

A.

Choice.

When Ryler sees me, his eyes widen and his hands elevate in surrender. I remain still for a few moments longer, before lowering the gun.

You failed.

A knot winds in my stomach.

When Ryler decides I’m not a threat, his hands fall to his sides. “Why do you have that? “ His hands move in front of him as he signs to me.