She nodded, pretending to listen to her mother, but her eyes couldn’t pry away from Kellan, who was distractedly leaning against the handrail, resting his elbows on it. His shirt travelled up, revealing a glimpse of his muscled abdomen. As if he could sense her eyes on him, he shot her a knowing smirk; she clenched her fists in an attempt to suppress her blush.

Bethan stiffened when he finally reached her; her feet felt stuck in place. He stopped, seemingly already over the strange encounter he had with her mother; he shrugged it off like it was nothing.

Typical.

He raised a single brow up at her, silently telling her to hurry up.

She led Kellan up the spiral staircase with a hand on the railing; the wood splintered as she glided her hand up. She stepped upon another stair, feeling it cave beneath her foot. She warned Kellan, who was two steps behind, and just when she was about to warn for the low hanging beam at the top of the stair, she heard the sound of a head hitting wood.

‘Fuck,’ he seethed.

She spun on her heel to find Kellan rubbing his temple. His eyes watered from the pain, making them look like stained glass.

She cackled, clutching her stomach.

‘I’m glad my pain brings you so much joy,’ he muttered, rolling his eyes.

They journeyed further into the dimly lit hall; it was apparent her parents hardly went up there, a blanket of dust covering the skirting boards on top of the wooden panels. Mould grew on the frames of old photos. Mice must have chewed holes through the skirtings. Guilt flooded; she should have visited more often or hired someone to look after them. Kellan must have thought her family were slobs by the state of it. She let her gaze fall on him and couldn’t help but be in awe at the fae prince, who stood in front of the framed paintings she and Dana spent a summer creating, with tears welling in his eyes still.

‘Kell,’ she called to him, his eyes peeling away from the paintings of cats and stick figures. He pointed at them.

‘You both painted those? Together?’

She nodded, biting her tongue.

He shot her a sad smile. ‘It must’ve been nice to have someone to do that stuff with you.’

They were silent for a while; always small things would let Bethan know that he missed a childhood he never had.

She stilled at Dana’s door; her heart felt like it was going to beat out of her chest. Kellan turned the knob but creased his forehead when the door jolted and stayed in place. He rolled his eyes and used his shoulder to ram it open.

Dana’s room was precisely how she left it; besides the dust that covered every surface, one would not think Dana even moved out, let alone died.