"I was in the middle
before I knew
that I had begun."

Alastair's mother. Imogen Hawthorne.

I think I was just as stunned--or maybe a little more--as Imogen when she saw our faces. Or more particularly, when she saw Alastair.

Alastair didn't look that surprised though. He just looked...sad. Lost, I realised. I took a tiny step back when I saw Imogen slowly getting up from her rocking chair, her eyes still stuck on Alastair. And then she was moving forward, wrapping her frail arms around him, hugging him so tightly as if she was scared to lose him.

"Oh, Cass." Her voice, I noticed, sounded so frail and sad and so broken. She sounded so relieved. "I got so scared, darling. I didn't think you'd come back."

I saw Alastair stiffening at that, probably because she just called him Cass, but he still hugged her back. I watched them both from where I stood. Nothing made sense.

"Of course I'd come back, Ma." He whispered it so quietly, so softly, that it almost made me tear up. The staff member, the middle-aged guy, who was standing by the door to keep a watch, didn't seem like he was listening. He seemed almost used to this--used to seeing Alastair coming here to visit his mother. Except that they all thought he was Cassius. The other twin.

Imogen laughed softly before pulling away. Then her gaze momentarily darted towards me. It was a little strange to see the beautiful grey in her eyes, so similar to Alastair's.

"Who's this?" She asked him.

Alastair seemed to remember I was there, still standing and still a whole lot clueless, as he looked at me. "This is...Ophelia."

I suppose that was enough of an introduction to her since she smiled, so unlike Iris (Alas's stoic aunt), and offered me a hand. "It is lovely to meet you, Ophelia." And I didn't even mind, not one bit, when she used my full name. Not when she had an accent so similar to Alastair's. Not when she had his beautiful eyes.

"You too, Mrs Hawth--Imogen." I corrected myself at the last second, smiling a little sheepishly before shaking her hand.

Imogen just smiled back before looking over at Alastair again. "You didn't tell me you made a friend here, Cass. And why did it take you so long to visit me again? You scared me a lot last time, you know that? I almost thought I lost you."

I didn't like where this was going. I think Alastair didn't either.

"Let's sit down, Ma." He told her in that same cautious voice like he wasn't used to seeing her. He wasn't, I reminded myself. From what little Alastair had told me before coming here, this was probably the first time he had gone inside the hospital to see his mother. I still didn't understand how she was alive. I'd seen her grave in Knightsridge. Was this really happening?

Since there wasn't much space in the room anyway, the staff guy led us out to a small area that looked much like a cafeteria. There weren't many people out here except for a few elderly patients. I sat down beside Alastair when Imogen sat down across from him. I think he must've felt my hesitation, or perhaps the thousands of questions were too obvious on my face, since he took my hand under the table, lacing our fingers together and holding on. I relaxed a little.

Imogen started the conversation in a way that told me how happy she really was to see him, to see Alastair. I didn't understand why she was here in a psychiatric hospital when absolutely nothing seemed wrong with her. Except for one thing maybe. She thought Alastair was Cassius. Cassius was dead, I thought. And he used to visit her here when he wasn't.

I didn't know what to make of that information.

"Your brother loved when it rained," Imogen said after a while, gazing across the room at the tall glass windows. They were sealed shut, but you could see the heavy rain outside. She smiled a little, curling her fingers around the warm cup of tea. "Alas didn't like when it snowed. But he loved the rain."

I glanced over at Alastair. I hadn't known that. It was quite actually the opposite of what I liked. Except that Alastair never pointed that out whenever I had asked him to accompany me when it snowed back in Oak Valley.

Alastair was quiet right now. He didn't even meet my gaze.

"Cass must've told you about his brother, hm?" Imogen said. It took me a few seconds to realise that she was talking to me. "About Alastair?"

Alastair's grip on my hand tightened a fraction.

"Yeah." I smiled at her. "He did tell me...about his brother."

That seemed enough to convince her. That was, however, also enough to break Alastair out of his head. "Mom," He sighed, looking up at her. "The last time I came here to see you, when was it?"

Imogen hummed. "Oh, it's been more than two years at least. That's what Kaleb told me when I asked him." I assumed Kaleb was the curly-haired staff member.

"Right. More than two years." Alastair repeated. And now he was frowning. "Do you...remember what we talked about?"

That seemed to take out all the light from Imogen's pale grey eyes. She seemed to age in those next few seconds. And sad, she looked so sad. I wondered if that's where Alastair got it from--the ability to show so much with just those eyes.

"I thought you...I thought you forgave me for it, Cass." Her voice fell to a whisper. Her hand seemed to fidget, almost as if she wanted to reach out to him. Hold him. I think I knew how that felt. To be scared to touch the one thing you loved the most. "I thought you forgave me for everything."

"Forgave you for what?" Alastair asked.

"For what we did to you." Her eyes glossed over with tears. I could see the staff guy, Kaleb, hovering two tables away from us. But he didn't near us. "For what your father and I did."

Alastair's hand felt cold in mine. I wanted to ask her what she meant but I didn't think it was my place. Still, the curiosity was killing me from the inside.

"You said I made it up to you." She seemed to be rambling now. "When I saved your life. When I pushed your father when he was...there was so much blood, don't you remember? I made it up to you. I stopped him from killing you."

My jaw went slack. Alastair's hand slipped away from mine.

"Ma," his voice came out in just a whisper. "What are you talking about?"

Imogen stopped rambling and her eyes widened a little. "Oh, sweetie, I'm so sorry. I didn't...I didn't mean to make you remember all that. All the absolute torture we put you through. We loved you. We should've loved you just the same." A small tear rolled down her cheek. I shrunk back in my seat, a little horrified. My brain felt like a giant mess, trying to make sense of every word of hers.

"Mom--"

"Your brother loved you." She cut him off. "He always...he was always there for you when we weren't, Cass."

Alastair went silent at that. I think he looked a little pale.

"And," she sniffled, wiping her cheek, "you said you were going back to see him. Did you? How is he doing? How is my Alastair?"

Alastair inhaled sharply and leaned back, raking both of his hands through his hair. I noticed how his hands trembled a little. Then before I or Imogen could've said anything, he stood up, the chair scraping back noisily against the floor.

"I need to go." Was all he said before walking away, out of the room.

I watched him go and each step he took away made my heart race a little more.

"Oh, dear lord, I said something wrong, didn't I?" Imogen was looking where he had left from, her eyes wide. "I didn't...I didn't mean to."

"Imogen," I managed it out. She turned her teary, absolutely heart wrenching, gaze to me. "I don't think you said anything wrong," I reassured her. The words felt heavy on my tongue. "It's just...he hasn't been here in a while." My lie seemed to work. Her shoulders slumped and she sniffled, nodding.

"You're right." She nodded again. "I should've thought about it. His past wasn't easy. Remembering it all over again must not be easy."

I swallowed. "Right, about that. Do you think there was anything he left--Cassius left--behind before he went to see his brother?"

He must've, I thought. Cassius never came to see Alastair, unlike what Imogen had just told us. He never showed up. There was no Cassius as far as I knew. Alastair's twin was a hidden mystery. Not until his body was found in that frozen lake. Even then it was thought of as Alastair's body. Cassius had always been invisible to everyone's eyes. Even Alastair.

"He did." Imogen nodded. "The last time Cass came to visit me, he told me about the box. I never...I never saw him being that happy when he came to visit me. But that day he did seem happy, satisfied. He told me that he wanted Alastair to have it, that box."

"What box?" I asked her.

"The one Cass had in his apartment." She answered. "The one with that melody they both used to play on the piano when they were children. Cass told me that he was going to make Alastair remember."

Whatever that I was planning on saying next died down in my throat. The melody, I realised. Was she talking about the one I had in my room, in the form of that cassette I got back in Oak Valley?

"Why doesn't Alastair remember him?" I asked her.

Imogen's eyes were saddened once again. I didn't like it. Not one bit.

"They made him forget." She said. "His father needed a perfect son. Cass was never...he wasn't perfect in his father's eyes. And when Alas saw too much, things that would've broken him in the end, he needed to forget."

I stared at her. I stared at her for a long time.

"Alas needed to be the perfect son his father wanted. They forced him to forget half of his childhood." Imogen looked away, shaking her head just a tiny bit, hands fidgeting. "If I wasn't here...if I could see my Alas just one more time..." She didn't say anything more. I didn't ask her to finish that sentence either.

He needed to forget.

******

Alastair was back in his car by the time I gave back my visitors pass at the front desk and left the hospital. I grimaced when I stepped out and rain drenched me from every direction. It wasn't raining as heavily as before, but still enough to remind me exactly why I hated rain in the first place.

Too much water. Too much cold. Too many sticky clothes.

The car door was open and I could see Alastair from afar, his forehead pressed against the steering wheel, his hands stuffed in his pockets. He didn't seem to care that rain was practically getting inside his car, probably ruining the leather seats too.

But then I remembered Imogen's words. He loved the rain.

"Hey," I said as I neared him, holding his opened door with one hand as I eyed him. His side profile looked pretty drenched, just like my whole self.

Alastair exhaled softly. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have...just left you in there."

"It's all right." I shrugged.

He seemed like he wanted to shrink into himself and disappear. "I would've come in to get you." His voice nearly got drowned by the noisy rain. It was a miracle that I could hear him.

"It's all right, Alas," I told him, kneeling down on the rocky (slash muddy) ground so that I could see his face. "It's okay."

He didn't say anything for a while, just closed his eyes. Then I saw him slowly shaking his head against the steering wheel.

"She couldn't even tell who I really was, Ophelia." He whispered, and the sadness in his voice gripped my throat. It weighed me down. I didn't like when he sounded so sad. I hated it. I wished so desperately that I could take it away.

"She thought I was him." He added.

"Alas--"

"And I was lying." There was this strain in his voice. "I was pretending to be my dead brother."

I fell quiet at that. I didn't think there was anything I could've said to make him feel better.

"I was pretending to be someone who I wasn't even aware existed. Who's not even...alive." His voice cracked, and something broke inside me.

Hastily, I stood up again. "Alas, don't. Please." Don't do this to yourself, I wanted to say. Don't break yourself into pieces that might never fix again.

He pulled his head away from the steering wheel and inhaled shakily. "He was supposed to come and see me, Ophelia." He looked at me and his eyes were slightly red, filled with tears. And I hated it. Some invisible force made me lean forward and I didn't even think twice before wrapping my arms around his shoulders, pulling him in. And I held onto him. I always would.

"He was supposed to...see me." He whispered this time, the pain in his voice too obvious. He was supposed to make you remember.

Was it my fault that he came here? I had technically forced him to be honest with me, and he brought me here because I was being my stubborn self, not letting it go until he told me what this all was about. And even if I still didn't understand things fully, Alastair had been honest. And now he was crying just because I had been stupid and confronted him about punching Liam the grocery boy, which had only led us here to this hospital. And God, he was crying and I hated it. I would give anything, I realised as I pressed my quivering chin on the top of his head, to not see him cry.

"It'll be okay," I murmured, letting my fingers softly tangle into his hair, holding him close. "I promise it will, Alas."

Alastair exhaled shakily, leaning his head against my stomach. "I don't think it will, Ophelia."

It won't, I knew that.

"Maybe it's better that way," I said. Maybe it was.

It was just the rain around us and the soft pattering of it as we fell into silence. Alastair didn't pull away. So I didn't either. Even if it was raining and my clothes were fully wet (my jeans were probably covered with the mud too now), I didn't pull away from him. I didn't want to. A part of me was relieved, maybe even happy, that I could finally hold him like this. And I hated that part of me because I didn't like the circumstance we were in. How could I feel happy when he was so sad?

"Well, at least I know now what's going on." I broke the silence after a little clear of my throat, letting my fingers trail down the back of his head.

Alastair leaned back against my fingers, looking up at me. "You don't."

I frowned. "I don't?"

He shook his head, and even if it didn't seem possible, the grey in his eyes turned even sadder. "There's something else you don't know, Ophelia."

-----

well apparently i was shitting around when i said i'll update this book every day. in my defence winters make me lazy asf.

how cold is it rn where you guys live? (my-fingers-are-gonna-fall-off cold or meh-i-can-take-a-cold-shower-in-the-middle-of-the-night cold)

Crystal Xx