𝐒𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐔𝐍𝐂𝐇

XVI

— RORI —

It's Tuesday now and approximately three days have passed since the incident at the club.

Xavi explained everything to the boys as soon as they woke the next morning, which, as i had anticipated, didn't go down smoothly.

They only began to calm down once Yakov revealed to us that our brother was awake. We huddled together in the living room and listened to him and Zephaniah argue over speaker phone.

It wasn't as entertaining as it sounds, however, since most of their arguing was about me. Not only that, but Zephaniah sounded very frail, weak, and well...not himself.

Apparently, the side effects of whatever medication they put him on has yet to wear off. Yakov described his symptoms as extremely drowsy, confused, and light-headed.

Also, according to Yakov, Zephaniah had addressed him by different names (mainly Wyatt) on more than one occasion. Thankfully, his disoriented state has begun to wear off now.

Yakov also explained to Zephaniah and the others about why my involvement was necessary, and when they found out about the phone call, they were absolutely livid.

And when i say livid, i mean they had pitchforks at the ready.

Yesterday morning, i woke up to see my phone resting on my bed-side table. When i asked Xavi if he was able to trace the call back, all he said was that the number does not exist.

I was a little shaken by this statement, since now we have no way of finding out who the caller was.

The only clues come from my own recollection, but even then, they most likely aren't an accurate representation of what happened at the time. Especially since my sole focus was making sure my brother was safe.

Currently, Yakov and Xavi are dealing with our eldest brother who's stay at the hospital has been prolonged.

We haven't been able to visit him since the night he was admitted, but since i know he is somewhat safe from danger right now, i haven't been dwelling on it too much.

Instead, i fear what will happen once he is released.

"Hey."

As i exit my room, i look to my left and spot Seamus.

We haven't spoken since last weekend, in Aunt Tosca's cafe, and avoid each other during school hours.

I'm not sure which i prefer: having a brother who won't stop bugging me or having a brother who ignores me twenty-four-seven.

Probably the former.

"Hey," i respond, not bothering to hide the suspicion in my tone. "How have you been?"

It's the first question that comes to mind, and so now i feel like a fool for attempting small talk with my brother.

My twin brother, no less; the boy who has shared each and every milestone with me, from becoming potty trained, to taking part in our first heist.

Small talk should be non-existent to us.

I hate feeling so insecure. I mean, it's not like he's going to judge me for asking a simple question.

Right?

"I've been feeling really shitty, to be honest," he answers without hesitation. "I've been a dick to my favourite sister, more or less, and now she doesn't want anything to do with me."