Somewhere in between Adam walking her further up the beach, away from the turbulent sea, and him sitting her down on a dry patch of sand and pebble, Remy had found her breath again. Just like that, her body had remembered how to function properly, and though it still shook and she felt more exhausted than she remembered having ever felt before, she was okay—or at least, that was what she told herself.

Adam was watching her carefully from the corner of his eye, though he was pretending to be focused on something in the distance, past the sand and sea, past the sky and horizon. His knees were bent in front of him, and his elbows rested on them, his hands clamped together. For perhaps the first time, she was grateful for him being there. Though he had flitted about her like a deer in the headlights, flustered and unsure of himself, he had been the only thing that had held her together a moment ago. Without him, she might have still been in that state of utter panic and devastation now, or worse.

"I'm sorry," she said finally, her voice hoarse. The wind bit her cheeks where her tears, ones she hadn't even felt fall, had only half-dried. She was embarrassed now, and couldn't look at Adam as she waited for his response. She had never fallen apart like that in front of anybody, not even in front of Maksim when her life had been threatened and she had been pulled into a world of instability and confusion. She never wanted to show how broken she was, never wanted to anybody else to see her weakness, and though she trusted Adam not to tell anybody or use it against her, she still felt utterly pathetic for even getting herself into such a state: And for what? A boy. A warlock who had left her here, and another who had nearly killed her, for though Ackmard was in another world from her now, he still lived in the corners of her consciousness, still pierced through her memories with his black, merciless eyes. He could still hurt her, scare her, even now, and she had not quite acknowledged that before she had come to the beach, where the memory of the dreams she had had of him felt a little more real.

"Don't be sorry for having a panic attack," Adam replied finally, his voice soft even as he made an effort to be heard over the wind and the crashing waves. "If anything, I'm sorry. I didn't realise you were hurting like this. I didn't realise you could hurt like this."

"What do you mean?" she frowned, pulling her legs to her chest as though that might protect her, her fingers fidgeting with the pebbles and sand on the ground beside her. She pretended to be interested in a particularly large shell.

Adam shrugged, his eyes finally falling on her. They weren't relentless as they were before, though, and as long as she didn't return his gaze, she could pretend as though she didn't know she was being watched.

"I've just always seen the side of yourself you choose to show me, I guess. You always seemed so ..." He searched for a word, one that Remy was not sure she wanted to hear. "Indifferent, I suppose. Carefree. Maybe that was just with me."

"No," she sighed. "I was like that with everyone. It was a lot easier that way, but now I can't be like that. I try to be. I don't know what's wrong with me. I don't know who I am anymore."

"What happened to you in that other world, Remy?"

"I don't know," she whispered after a few moments of trying to find an answer. Her teeth chattered, and she did not know whether it was from the cold or the distress her body had been in. It seemed the former, for the bottom of her jeans were still wet with sea water, and were faded white from the salt. "Everything."

"Tell me."

So she did. She told him about Maksim pushing her into the portal, and how she had been trapped there because the Dark Ones had followed them into Refilyn. She told him about Maksim's siblings and the key, how they had caused destruction and almost gotten her and Maksim, and even Sarah, killed. She told him about Max, and how they had begun at one another's throats but somehow developed inexplicably profound feelings for one another even though it could not, would not, work. And then she told him about how he had left her in that alleyway, telling her he did not want to see her again. Somehow, she said all of these things without crying or breaking down, though her voice was weak and cracked often.

"And now I have no idea what to do," she finished once the story had been told. There was so much more to it that she had not managed to say, of course, but some things needed to simply belong only to her. "He could be in danger. His brother and sister are still out there. He could be hurt, and I'd never know, because I'm stuck here, doing nothing, being nothing. I have to live the rest of my life here, knowing I'll probably never see him again. How do I do that, Adam?"

Adam seemed at a loss for words, so instead, he put an arm around Remy's shoulder and pulled her into his chest. A few months ago, she would have pushed him away and perhaps teased him for it, but now she couldn't help but bask in the warmth of another human being, one that was not angry with her or confused, one who she could talk to even if he did not quite understand all that she had seen. "You'll find a way. Besides, this wizard guy seems kind of stupid. He'd have to be to let himself lose you."

Warlock, she wanted to correct but didn't. Instead, she simply mumbled, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for being a horrible friend to you before I left, and I'm sorry that I left, and I'm sorry for what I did to Sarah. And I'm sorry for having a nervous breakdown in front of you."

"I know." His chest lowered beneath her as he exhaled, and when he spoke, she could feel his voice vibrating against her hair. The knowledge that she hadn't felt this close to anybody since she had slept beside Maksim in Astracia made her want to pull away, but she didn't, for it was easier to be somewhere where he couldn't see her face. "I wanted to hate you. I wanted to believe that you'd done all this on purpose to cause your usual Remy-esque chaos, because I didn't want to think you were really gone. I was so angry with you, Remy, for leaving, and for how long I'd been trying to get your attention, and for how you always treated me like I didn't matter to you. If I'd have known you were going through all of this ..."

"Don't." She shook her head, closing her eyes. "Don't make excuses for me. I don't deserve that."

Words echoed in her head then, ones she remembered saying herself:˜Sometimes, people just aren't very kind, and there's no reason or excuse for them; that's just the way they are."

They had been said to Annika about Maksim, for she hadn't known his heart the way she did now and thought that he was cruel and hostile. Still, she had also meant them for herself, and she wondered now how long she had been doing this. How long had she been hurting Adam without even being aware of it?

"You don't deserve this, either. You're not a bad person, Remy." 

"What is this?" It was another voice that seemed to come from behind them. Sarah's voice, Remy soon found out as she pulled away from Adam and saw her friend standing above them, with wisps of brown hair escaping from her neat ponytail and whipping across her face. She did not look angry, not like she had yesterday; instead, her eyes were blank behind her glasses. Obviously, she had had time to pick up a new pair.

Adam stood up as though he had just realised that he had been touching something rotten without knowing, and Remy subconsciously pulled her arms around herself at the loss of heat.

"Nothing. We were just talking, that's all." he said.

"Talking," Sarah repeated as though she had not quite figured out the definition of the word yet. "It looked to me more like you were hugging, but perhaps Specsavers got my prescription wrong."

Frowning, Remy stood up, too, looking between Sarah and Adam. They barely noticed, too focused on one another. "Is there something going on here?"

Sarah scoffed. "Like you don't already know. You're not that stupid, Remy."

"Actually, I am. I was a little busy in a warlock realm to keep a record on which of my friends were dating, and I thought you were, too. I didn't know, Sarah."

"It's true. I didn't tell her." Adam's expression was filled with guilt, though Remy couldn't imagine what Sarah had seen that was so bad. They had only been hugging, hadn't they?

"He was just being a good friend to me."

Sarah snapped her head towards Remy suddenly, and Remy thought she could see something bubbling just below the surface of Sarah, something that she did not want to unleash. "I'm surprised you're able to recognise that, being as you're not one yourself."

"Sarah." Adam's arms were raised in caution, but Remy stood in front of him so that he would not try to defend her. She didn't need him to, and she had a feeling Sarah wouldn't appreciate it all that much.

"You're right. I'm not a good friend, but I wanted to save you, Sarah. I begged Hilda to try. I even told her I would give the key to Ackmard if I had to. Maksim and I were trying to find a way to get you back when I was kidnapped, too. Please, Sarah. Please believe me." 

"I can't. They told me you wasn't willing to give up the key for me, and do you want to know the worst thing?"

Remy shook her head, her eyes filling with tears. She was so tired, now. The panic attack she'd had before had drawn the life out of her, and she could barely find it in her to stand, but she forced herself to. She needed to, to make Sarah understand that she was sorry.

"I wasn't even surprised. I knew I wasn't worth it to you."

"You're wrong. I would have done anything to make sure you were safe. I tried my best, Sarah. I never wanted you to be hurt. I never wanted any of this."

"Of course you did!" she erupted, causing Remy to jump. Sarah never shouted. Where Remy was too alive, too full of passion and sensitivity and emotion, Sarah had always been rational and steady. "You live for this, Remy. You love that all of the attention is on you, that you're the very centre of this, that everyone pities you because your warlock boyfriend didn't want you anymore. Don't you?" 

"Sarah, that's enough." Adam tried to approach the brown-haired girl, but she dodged him, her hand clenched into a fist where she clutched the strap of the handbag on her shoulder.

"You love that the guy I like is comforting you and feeling sorry for you, and that your mum has been worrying herself to death for you. You've always wanted this."

It's not like that, she wanted to say. God, how could I want this? Instead, she simply muttered, "You're right. It always was my childhood dream to get thrown into a world that isn't mine, be threatened and almost killed by psychopathic witches and warlocks, and fall in love with someone who will never stay. How did you know? Am I that transparent?"

"And there it is." Sarah stepped back, defeated. "Back to your old self, because God forbid you say something real. God forbid you care. I take it you're tired of groveling for my forgiveness now? Tired of acting as though you care?"

"I will grovel for as long as it takes, but I won't stand here and listen to you accuse me of things that aren't true, even if I do deserve it." She shook her head, wiping her damp cheeks with the sleeve of her sweater. "I'm sorry that you were dragged into this. You shouldn't have been. But do not think for a second that I wanted any of this, because I didn't. I would never ask for this. I am ..." she gulped, strangling the sob begging to emerge from her throat. Heartbroken, she wanted to say. "I'm going through stuff, too. For you to throw something like that in my face to hurt me makes you just as bad as me, whether you choose to admit it or not."

"I will never be as bad as you," she responded through gritted teeth. "I would never do what you did to me."

"I pray to Refilyn you'll never be put in a position where you have to find out. You might just realise that things aren't as simple as you want them to be."

Remy hadn't realised what she had said until both Adam and Sarah were scrutinising her, confusion passing over their features. I pray to Refilyn. That wasn't what she usually said. It was what Maksim and Hilda would say, for Refilyn was theirs to pray to, not hers.

She averted her gaze uncomfortably, the wind icy against her hot cheeks. "I'm sorry, alright? I don't know how else to say it, so just ... just do what you will with that."

She walked away before the conversation could continue, trying with all her might to stop herself from crying. She was tired of crying, tired of breaking down, tired of apologising and arguing and wishing for something that no longer existed.

She was tired of being.