Callie's POV
I wasn't supposed to talk to him. Not yet. Not until I was sure I could control myself, control what happens if I got to close. I had promised. I had sworn I wouldn't interfere.
But the moment I saw him standing there in the hallway, smiling like everything was normal, like the last seven years had never ripped away from him, something inside me cracked.
Marcus.
The name still doesn't sit right in my chest. It feels borrowed, like something that belongs to someone else. I can say it out loud just fine, but in my head…. It doesn't fit.
I lean back against the cold brick wall just outside the school building, arms folded tightly across my chest as if that might hold everything together. The air is sharp, biting through my sleeves, but I barely feel it.
Students pass by in clusters, their voices loud and careless. Laughter spills into the cold air, echoing across the courtyard. Someone complains about homework. Another groans about practice. It's all so… normal.
He's one of them now.
That's what hurts the most.
My eyes drift shut for just a second, and instantly, I regret it.
Fire.
It's always fire first.
Not bright and warm, not comforting. This kind of fire devours. It twists and crawls, wrapping around everything it touches until there's nothing left but smoke and ruin.
Chains follow next.
The sound of them- sharp, metallic, dragging against stone cuts through the memory like a blade. I can hear it, and I still feel the way it echoed through my bones that night.
That night…
I forced my eyes open, my breath catching halfway in my throat. No. I can't go there. Not here. Not now.
A sting pulls my attention downward. My fingers have curled so tightly into my palms that my nails have broken the skin. Tiny crescents of red bloom against pale flesh.
I didn't even notice.
"Get it together," I whisper under my breath, my voice barely audible over the wind.
You don't get to fall apart. Not after everything. Not when he's still…
I cut the thought off before it can finish.
I shouldn't have come here.
Watching him from a distance was safer. That was the plan. Stay far enough that he wouldn't feel it, that nothing would… slip, but distance isn't the same as reality.
Seeing him close is different. Dangerous.
Because now I know.
He looks the same.
Older, of course. Time didn't stop for him the way it felt like it did for me. He's taller, his features sharper, his movements more confident. There's strength in him now, a steadiness that wasn't there before.
But underneath all of that… it's still him.
It's still the same stupid, warm smile. Still the same way his eyes soften when he laughs. Still the same person who used to…
My chest tightens so suddenly I have to press my hand against it.
Still my brother...
The word settles heavy and aching in my mind.
Seven years.
Seven years, and he doesn't remember anything. Not the house. Not the nights we stayed up talking about nothing. Not the way he used to complain about the dark, even though he'd never admit he was scared.
And definitely not me.
To him, I'm just a girl at school.
A stranger.
I swallowed hard, forcing the lump in my throat down.
Maybe that's for the best. Maybe it's safer.
A group of students brushed past me, one of them bumping my shoulder without apologizing. I barely react. Instead, I pull my hood a little lower, letting the shadow hide more of my face, letting me blend in perfectly.
Stay invisible.
It had always been the rule for years. I followed it without question. Tracked every change or sign that something might be wrong. If anything slipped, then everything we sacrificed would mean nothing.
I stiffen.
The feeling hits me so suddenly it almost knocks the breath out of my lungs.
That pressure. It's subtle at first, like a change in the air. The kind you might ignore if you didn't know better. But I do know better.
My head snaps up, my eyes scanning the courtyard instinctively before locking onto the far edge of the school grounds.
The field. For a split second, everything looks normal.
Then…. There.
A distortion.
It's faint, barely visible, like heat rising off asphalt on a hot day. Th air bends, warps, twisting in on itself as if something is pressing against it from the other side.
My heart drops. It's not supposed to happen yet.
He's not ready.
My breathing quickens as I take a step forward, then another, my focus locked on that flicker. It pulses once - then disappears like it was never there.
My thoughts snap immediately to one thing.
The bracelet.
My gaze drops instinctively to where his wrist would be, even though he's nowhere in sight right now.
That bracelet is the only reason he's still here. The reason he's still.. himself.
It's a seal, a prison, a barrier holding things far worse in place, and if that barrier is weakening…
A chill runs down my spine that has nothing to do with the weather.
"You shouldn't be here"
The voice comes from behind me.
Low. Controlled. Familiar in the worst possible way.
Every muscle in my body locks instantly. My breath halts, caught somewhere between inhale and exhale.
I don't turn right away. I don't need to.
I already know. Still- carefully- I pivot on my heel.
And there he is.
Standing just a few feet away like he's been there the entire time. Watching.
My jaw tightens, my fingers curling slightly at my sides. "I could say the same to you," I reply, keeping my voice steady despite the tension coiling in my chest.
His expression doesn't change. It never does.
Cold. Calculating. Like he's always measuring something I can't see.
"You're getting careless," he says, his gaze flicking briefly toward the school building before returning to me. "Talking to him!? That wasn't part of the plan,"
"I didn't tell him anything."
"Not yet."
The words hang between us, heavy with meaning.
My eyes narrow slightly. "You've been watching me."
A faint smirk touches his lips, though it doesn't reach his eyes. "of course I have. Did you think you were going to keep track of him alone?"
My pulse spikes with irritation flashing through me. "Then you already know nothing's changed. He doesn't remember."
"No," he agrees softly. "He doesn't."
"But that doesn't mean it's working," he adds.
Silence stretches between us.
"What's that supposed to mean?" I ask, my voice dropping.
His gaze shifts past me again, toward the field, toward where I saw the distortion.
"You felt it, didn't you?" he says quietly. "The barrier is weakening."
My breath catches.
"I told you this would happen," he continues, his tone calm in a way that makes everything worse. "we can't keep something like that contained forever."
"That's not true," I snap, sharper than intended. "it's held this long - "
"Barely." The words cut through me.
"he's starting to remember," he says.
"No," I whisper. "He's not - "
"He is," he interrupts. "Maybe not fully or consciously, but it's happening.
"We can rush him!" I say, trying to keep my voice steady.
He tilts his head slightly, studying me. "When he does remember, what are you going to do about it?"
I don't answer right away
"I won't let anything happen to him," I say finally, my voice quiet but firm.
His expression doesn't soften.
"If you wait too long," he says, "you won't have a choice."
He steps back slightly, already retreating.
"we're running out of time, Callista."
Then he turns and walks away, disappearing into the crowd like he was never there.
I stand there, unmoving, but my thoughts are racing.
My gaze drifts back to the field towards him.
Marcus..
He's still laughing, still living like everything is okay.
My chest tightens once again.
"...I'm sorry," I whisper, though he can't hear me.
Because whether I'm reading or not, everything is starting to break, and once again…
I don't know what to do.