KATHERINE

"Hey, Kat."

His amber eyes regarded me coolly, and I could imagine my glare looked petty and childish underneath his unresponsive gaze. Anger sparked in my chest, but I swallowed the lump away, squeezing my eyes shut before I managed to find the words to reply.

The air escaped me. Through the darkness of my eyelids I saw the back of the door after I had slammed it in his face, so close it must've missed his nose by a hair.

"What are you doing here?" I asked.

He waved his ticket. "Flying. You?"

"I'm going to work." I managed to get out, though not as rudely as I would've liked. "Seriously, what are you doing here?" It took all my strength to swallow the bile surging up in my throat.

A fleeting moment of triumph drummed through me as his eyes darted elsewhere. For the moment, he couldn't look at me, nor examine the blush that was creeping up my cheeks like sunlight on a frosty morning. My fingers gripped the handle of the suitcase tighter when Nicolas lifted his arm, but he didn't move to touch me.

"Can I help you put your suitcase up?" he asked, then glanced at the growing line of passengers waiting to reach their seats once we sat down.

If I put my suitcase up myself, it would put me closer to him. He might even try to take advantage of the moment with a snide remark... but if I gave it to him, I would be giving up ground. Losing the battlefront to the enemy crossing the border.

Before I could decide between two great evils, Nick scooped up my suitcase. He neatly placed his beside it, then gestured to the row. "Let's sit."

I glanced at my ticket—hoping against all hope, that we would be seated separately—and slid into the window seat, cradling my purse in my lap as I side-eyed him.

Nick glanced at his own boarding pass and let out a wry laugh before sliding into the seat beside me. To my dismay, my silence didn't seem to deter him.

"Are you still writing?" he asked, running his fingers through his hair. My eyes were reluctantly drawn to this slow, casual movement.

He was nervous.

I wonder why.

It hit me, and for a moment, I almost felt bad. But then it seemed to hit him, too, and his gaze was drawn to the glint of gold on his finger.

My throat went dry. Too bad security had forced me to throw my water out. "No, Nicolas." I sighed, trying to feign exasperation. My fingers twitched in time with my heart. "I stopped writing a long time ago." I gritted my teeth. "And frankly, I don't want to talk about it."

"You stopped?"

All I could do was nod.

"Why?" he asked.

I had to bite my tongue to keep from laughing when he said that. My face flushed red as spite and memory fled to my extremities.

"Ask Victoria," I said, glaring at him while pretending to dig through my purse for headphones.

His voice betrayed his surprise. "What did Tori say to you?"

By the grace of God, my response was interrupted when a middle-aged woman sank into the aisle seat and shot us a polite smile. Her three teenaged kids settled in front of us. One of them, the only girl, sat in front of me, her spiky pink hair protruding above the headrest.

I pulled my phone from my purse and pretended to scroll through Facebook while the flight attendants completed the rest of the boarding process. All too soon, I had to shut my phone off for takeoff.

At least, being seated near the wing, I couldn't see the ground rushing beneath us as we catapulted into the air. The engines, however, seemed to be the perfect cover for Nick to speak again.

"What did Tori say to you?" he whispered.

I groaned. "If I answer your questions, will you leave me alone?" I sighed. "She said to quit because I wasn't any good." Nick frowned, a flash of anger streaking across his face like wildfire.

He shifted to face me better in his seat, his hand brushing my arm. It wasn't like the kind of touches we used to share, where our skin burned and just a touch sent sparks of electricity shooting through me. This time, I recoiled.

Nick's eyes widened then narrowed at my response. His eagerness seemed to be tempered—dare I say, humbled?—and his amber gaze softened. "Tori didn't mean what she said, Kat." When he saw I wasn't convinced, he added, a little defensively now, "She must've had a few drinks."

"And she is never more honest than after having down a couple of martinis."

Nick let out a sigh. The movement stirred the air, and the scent of raspberry on his person made my heart ache with every beat. "Victoria said that to you?"

"Yes, she did."

"Listen to me, Kat. You--"

"Don't call me that." My heart drummed in my ears.

Nick sighed. Each breath he let out seemed heavier than the weight of the endless blue sky. "How is Erland? Your mother?"

"Fine." It's not as if he had a right to know. Especially not anything to do with my little brother. "Can you leave me alone now?"

The pink-haired teen in front of me glanced back at that, and the mother to Nick's left let out a soft squeak of surprise. Nick, as if sensing that he was getting too much attention, settled into his seat and shut up. 

* * * 

I woke up with a start, but it was contained to a twitch of my little finger. My lethargic limbs were slow to wake, but my skull buzzed like a wasp was pounding around inside. The throbbing, I soon realized, originated from the plane's engines preparing for a landing.

I cracked one eyelid open and shifted slightly, hearing a man's voice rumble something close to my ear. All at once, realization jolted me and I pushed off of Nick's shoulder.

"Didn't mean to startle you," he said. "We're landing in a few minutes."

My face burned hot, but I couldn't find it in me to apologize. At least he didn't seem smug or arrogant about it. He seemed to worry only about picking up his things: his headphones, phone, laptop. The sticker on the laptop jumped out at me: Wayward Publishing. Did he work there too?

Before I could work up the nerve to ask, the plane's wheels touched down on the landing strip and jostled the entire cabin. The passengers applauded when the pilot announced our arrival in Madison, Alabama at 4:05pm.

My eyes fell to the sky in the window, an amber sun that seemed to turn the edges of the sky a crimson-red. Something twisted in my gut and I hurried to turn on my phone.

All at once, half a dozen messages pinged. Some from Gramps. Missed calls. Then a few from Betsy. Before I could open the contents of the messages, a call came through: Betsy.

"Hey, Betsy," I said, "is something the matter? I see you called—"

"Are you sitting down, Kat?" Betsy's voice sounded strained over the phone, her usually sweet voice thin.

My brow furrowed. "Yes, what is it?"

"Your mother's been in an accident."

I felt my face go cold as all the blood drained. The muscled in my back tensed. "Is—is she okay? When was this?"

"A little after I dropped you off at the airport. Your mom is in the hospital, but Erland was discharged."

Relief washed over me, but only for a moment.

"It seems that your mother had a stroke while driving. She tried to get to the nearest exit when a drunk driver came up the exit ramp and clipped the driver's end of the car."

My head spun, my stomach churning. I squeezed my eyes shut. It was too similar to how Dad died. I swallowed bile. "How is she now?"

"She was resting before another procedure the last time they called." Betsy said. "That was thirty minutes ago."

"I-I have to see her." I tried to stand, but my legs gave way beneath me. Nick looked at me, a concerned frown etching his features.

"I already got you a ticket, Kat," said Betsy. Her voice was a refreshing wave of comfort over the phone. "Your flight leaves tonight and you arrive here tomorrow."

"Thank you," I breathed. "Really, I'll pay you back."

"Don't even try," Betsy replied, letting out a laugh.

I looked up at my surroundings. Almost the entire plane had disembarked. Even Nicolas was a few rows down, already making his way off the plane.

"And Erland?" I asked.

"I don't know," she said. "Last I heard he was with your grandfather." I groaned and Betsy went on. "I know you got some issues with him, so I'll let you go so you can talk to him. See you later, Kat."

I hung up the phone and immediately called Gramps. The phone went to voicemail, but was quickly followed by a message:

5:30PM Gramps: The boy is on his way to you. I can't take care of him. I'll see about Camille here.

5:30PM Gramps: He'll arrive around midnight.

Then, a moment later:

5:32PM Betsy: Forwarded you the itinerary. <3

I called my best friend again. She answered on the first ring. "Hey, Kat."

Heat flooded my body after reading Gramps' message, a mix of fear, anger, contempt. I fully expected to call Betsy to air my plight, but rage coiled around my throat like a snake.

"Kat, you there?"

I managed to let out a grunt. I forced myself to take a breath, and in a quiet, trembling voice said, "Gramps sent Erland to Alabama. I can't go."

Betsy began to say something else, but I hung up before I could lose control and snap at her. She didn't deserve it. Not when my hatred hinged on my grandfather.

I took my suitcase down, blinking back hot tears as I followed the trail of people off the plane. At least I hadn't checked a bag, so I don't have to pick anything up. I could find a hotel, spend the night while waiting for Erland, and pray to God that I could purchase two tickets on my credit card to see Mom.

My efforts to curb my tears crumbled by the time I stepped into the airport.

Dimly, I discerned shapes of people standing around for their loved ones. Very few remained, only a couple of flight attendants in red heels and a few men. One shape stepped closer to me, and as I blinked, I made out Nick coming closer.

I lifted a hand as if to defend myself. "Really, Nick, not right now—" My voice cracked, and I knew that if I spoke any more, I would fall into sobs, so I sealed my lips shut.

"If you'll let me, Katherine, I think I can help you."