Lost Hope

TWENTY-THREE

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Athena spent the rest of the day locked up in her bedroom.

That was until the doorbell rang after midnight and a hush fell over the house. She jumped to her door and opened it, stumbling down the stairs hastily.

But she froze at the last step when she assessed the situation.

It was Arlo again. But this time, he wasn't fighting anyone. He didn't look smug and he couldn't glare at anyone.

Arlo was standing by the door, his eyes red and his face pale, he wasn't meeting anyone's eyes nor was he speaking.

"Arlo?" she mumbled, horrified by how dishevelled he looked. The older Black was always poised, never really bad-looking even when drunk or high.

His eyes snapped to hers and his chapped lips—also an unusual sight—quirked into a small, pained smile. "Hey, Tal."

His voice shook badly and he looked like he was about to fall over. She approached and the boys around him stepped to the side, all beyond confused but with enough brains to keep their mouths shut.

The rest of Arlo's resolve washed away when she was closer, his lips trembled slightly and his throat bobbed but he didn't speak. He merely wrapped his arms around her and his head dropped to her shoulder.

"Arlo," she breathed, now downright horrified by his sudden appearance. "What's going on?"

"Sebastian," he rasped, his voice cracking. "Sebastian's gone."

"Gone?" she repeated, confused. "Gone where?"

He didn't reply and his arms only tightened around her.

"Arlo?" she prodded, moving to raise his head so that she could look at him properly.

His eyes closed and he stepped back.

"Where's Sebastian?" she asked slowly, her eyes narrowing with her patience.

"He crashed," whispered Arlo. "Crashed into some wall while driving."

"And?" she urged, her voice shaking with fear. "And he's fine, right? Or-or he's in the hospital, recovering? Yes, yes, that's what happened."

His face became pained. "Athena."

"Yeah, I'll go to Fordwich and we can visit him, come on—" she said, raising her voice.

"Athena, he's gone," said Arlo then he flinched.

She laughed, already walking to the stairs. "Nice try to get us back together."

"Athena..." said Archie, who was standing with the others.

She ignored him and turned to Arlo who leant against the wall, his head between his arms.

"Arlo," she snapped, wondering why her heart was racing. "Arlo, drop the act."

He shook his head. "Athena, please—"

"'I refuse to believe a trickster's word'," she said, meeting his eyes, quoting what he taught her. "Isn't that what you used to tell me? I don't believe you."

"WOULD I LIE ABOUT MY BROTHER'S DEATH?" he shouted, finally losing his temper. "DO YOU REALLY THINK I WOULD DO THAT?"

"HE'S NOT DEAD!" she shouted back, breathing heavily. "Do you hear me, Arlo? He's not dead. I know that. He won't just leave, he—"

She broke off, shaking her head. "He's not dead." But her voice cracked. "He's not dead, Arlo, he's not. You know that, right? He wouldn't go. He—No, no. He's not dead. He's still here, I can feel it. He's here and so is Christophe and-and they're still here. You know that. I know that. They're alive. Both back in Fordwich. Yeah... Yeah! They're alive—"