Chapter 3

Kandy stared at me, her mind clearly reeling. A million questions must have been swirling in her head, but the shock of this unexpected victory overshadowed them all.

She grabbed Grady's hand, a joyful, disbelieving smile spreading across her face, and pulled him toward the cabin to pack.

Grady paused and looked back at me. Seeing that I meant Kandy no harm, the coldness in his eyes softened.

"I'm sorry," he said, a touch of awkwardness in his tone. "For how I acted."

His mood was entirely dictated by her. A pang of something, a memory of a time when I was the center of his universe, went through me. He used to be like a big dog, always following me, his eyes full of a devotion that was suffocatingly sweet.

That Grady was gone. This man belonged to someone else.

It was for the best, I reminded myself.

I drove them back to the Allen mansion. The reunion was strained. Mr. and Mrs. Allen were disappointed but tried to hide it, plastering on polite smiles. They started pointing out photos, trying to spark Grady's memory.

"And this is your grandfather... and this was your eighteenth birthday party..."

When they got to a large framed photo of Grady and me, they hesitated.

I stepped forward before they could speak. I focused on Grady, whose face was a mask of confusion and suspicion. He looked from the photo to me, then to his parents' strained smiles. His mind, a blank slate, was clearly struggling to connect the dots.

"Look, I know this is weird for you," I said, my voice gentle but direct. "Everyone's walking on eggshells. The short version is, we grew up together. I'm the annoying little sister you couldn't get rid of." I glanced at the photo. "That was taken right before I got engaged to someone else. You were supposed to walk me down the aisle."

I let out a playful, exasperated sigh. "Honestly, your timing is the worst. My fiancé is waiting, and I can't get married without my big brother."

The lie felt slick and easy on my tongue. In the room, the Allens and the staff who knew the truth wore complicated expressions. But for Grady, who was drowning in a sea of unfamiliarity, my simple, plausible lie was a lifeline. It explained my presence, the photo, and his parents' anxiety in a single, non-threatening narrative. I saw the tension in his shoulders ease, not because he fully believed me, but because he finally had a story he could grasp.

He even apologized. "Sorry, Em. Once I'm settled, I'll help you find a great guy."

Then he did something that made my breath catch. He reached out and ruffled my hair, a gesture so familiar, so ingrained, that he himself paused for a second, a flicker of confusion in his eyes.

He looked around the room, at the countless objects that tied him to me-our shared trophies on the mantelpiece, the silly drawings we'd made as kids framed on the wall. I saw a flicker of unease cross his face.

Later that evening, he started moving things. He carried all our shared memories-the photos, the awards, the mementos-into the backyard. He built a pile and set it on fire. He didn't want Kandy to see them.

The bright, hungry flames woke me from a deep sleep. I walked to my window and saw him standing there, his face illuminated by the fire, watching our past turn to ash.

The fire consumed everything. The photo of us at prom, him looking so serious in his tux. The spelling bee trophy we'd won as a team. The candy wrappers from the first box of chocolates he'd ever given me.

In the flickering light, his profile was sharp and cold. The warmth he'd shown Kandy was gone, replaced by an icy determination to erase me.

A sharp pain seized my chest, so intense it felt like a fist clenching my heart. I pressed a hand to my sternum, forcing myself to breathe through it.

He turned then and saw me standing in the doorway to the yard. He smiled, a frank, open smile, completely unaware of the devastation he was causing.

"Sorry, did I wake you?" he asked. "I'm just cleaning up some old stuff. I don't want Kandy to feel uncomfortable."

I shook my head, unable to speak. My eyes fell on a half-burnt object at the edge of the fire. I bent down and picked it up.

It was half of a small, wooden doll. He had carved it for me when I was ten, for my birthday. His hands were clumsy then, and he' d spent a week on it, his fingers covered in cuts and blisters. He' d told me it was a good luck charm, that as long as I had it, he' d always find his way back to me.

He would never remember that now.

"It's okay," I finally managed to say, my voice surprisingly steady. "Let's get rid of the rest of it. The things in my room, too."

The cold of the night seeped into my bones, a stark contrast to the heat of the fire licking at my past.

After everything was gone, reduced to a pile of glowing embers, Grady grabbed my wrist.

"Em, can you help me with something?"

I knew what he wanted before I saw the servants carrying boxes of fireworks into the yard.

"Kandy loves fireworks," he explained, his eyes bright with an excitement that was not for me. "I want to surprise her. Can you just make sure everything goes off right?"

For a second, a bitter question rose in my throat. And what about me, Grady? Where do I fit in this new life you're building?

But his next words silenced me.

"It's just... seeing you makes me feel calm," he said, a genuine, puzzled look on his face. "Like I can trust you. We must have been really close before."

The irony was a physical blow.

I nodded, a motion stiff and painful. "Okay."

He grinned, instantly relieved. He pressed a sparkler into my hand as a thank-you gift and ruffled my hair again before striding away, eager to get back to his real love.

Alone in the yard, I watched the fireworks explode against the black sky. They burst into shimmering, beautiful words, a poem written in light.

Kandy, my moon, my stars, my everything. I was lost until I found you.