The Grim (Ravens #3)

xxviii. stars

A/n: I didn't expect to be happy at the end of this chapter but surprise surprise I guess

When night-time fell over the motel room, almost all of its now seven inhabitants were blessed with a newfound peace, a new assurance that their lives had been saved, that they were going home. All five of them, or four and the antidote, and President Grey had chosen the former options. And with Mai scheduled to leave that same morning, the fate of six was sealed in stone. The seventh was a wild card. She always was.

"You don't sleep much, do you?" Sebastian asked, taking a seat beside his sister in the dark room. The moon shone through the cracks in the window blinds, illuminating them all in a silver light. Four of the others were asleep, and Skylar was seated outside on watch, soon to be relieved of her shift.

"I never have," Emma shrugged. Her legs were swung off of what had once been Phoenix's bed—although it was now empty since he had begun to share with Levi—and her elbows dug into her thighs, the muscles in her exposed arms tense and defined.

"Donny told me."

"It's weird that you're friends."

A silence erupted now, as neither knew quite what to say. A year and a half since they'd last seen each other. An entire lifetime before. Sebastian placed his hand on Emma's knee, the assuring strength in his grip was enough to make her turn her chin slightly to her left, and as her black eye was exposed again his heart dropped. "I'll talk to Grey in the morning. You'll be alright."

"Emilia won't take me back."

"You don't know that," he insisted. "You saved all of our lives here. If you hadn't warned us, one of us would have died. I would have died. You'll be forgiven."

"You're my brother," she muttered.

"You still had the choice," he said. "Even if you deny it, you and I both know I'm the reason you're here."

Emma shook her head slightly, but didn't argue. She had spent far too long blaming Sebastian for her current predicament, but she had grown to realize it was not his fault. Sure, he set the course in order, but it was she who fell in line with a gang that equated vengeance to justice, the self-proclaimed vigilantes who wreaked havoc in the name of salvation. It was she who sought revenge for her fallen friends. It was she who came upon Ezra's clan as Monarchia approached. It was she who was too proud to run.

And so, she changed the subject. "Why'd you lie about your name?"

"What do you mean?"

"Hunter knows you as Sebastian Augustus," she said. "Your last name means nothing here, you didn't have to hide it."

He cut her off, voice catching in his throat as it dawned on him how little his sister knew of the past six months. To her, he was still Harlem. "That is my last name now. This family is so fractured, but when you come home—"

"I'm not going with you."

"Emma, we need you. Our family needs you."

"Our mom doesn't want me," she snapped, her voice sharp and bitter over the gentle hum of the air conditioner. But before her brother could protest, she continued, "The old me, maybe, but that's dead. If she saw enough darkness in you to strip you of your own name, what the hell would she think of me? I'm a murderer, Sebastian. Get that through your head. There's no place for me there."

"You saved our lives," he argued, circling back to his original point and Emma simply rolled her eyes. "The things you've been forced to do don't define you. Emilia will see that, Mom will see that."