Not when it meant turning a blind eye to the assholes who’d taunt her shy brother for his soft ways. Not when it meant abandoning a new kid to the daunting jungle that is elementary school social circles. Not when it meant failing to provide a scared little boy his only means of escape in a life otherwise ruled by monsters.

And especially not when it meant walking away from the boy who loved her more than anything else in this cruel world. A boy who would have followed her anywhere, given he had a choice. Even if it meant into the waiting hands of the monster who would one day snuff out her light.

A boy who is now a man with one foot in the grave, staring up at the ceiling like he’d wish the ground would just hurry up and swallow him whole.

I slowly lower to a crouch.

Mason doesn’t fight me when I take the vodka away. He doesn’t so much as blink.

The impulse to drink crashes over me with so much force, it’s a wonder I don’t throw the fucking thing with my desperation to be rid of it. I don’t even like vodka. But I want it.

I need it.

Anything to dull the scalding hot blade cutting into my chest with each passing moment.

I don’t take my eyes off my best friend as I shakily set it to the side. “Mason.”

Ignoring me—if he even heard me—he reaches up and brushes his fingertips over Jeremy’s pale, smooth jaw, in a feather-light touch.

Jeremy’s eyes flash with something I can’t name as his fingers twitch against Mason’s hairline, and I don’t know who’s tenser—me, or the guy who currently has his dead twin sister’s boyfriend’s hand shakily cupping his face.

I watch with bile burning in my throat as Jeremy slowly drops his gaze to collide with Mason’s. Mason, of all fucking people. The guy who loved Izzy—Jeremy’s literal other fucking half—more than anyone and anything in this fucking life.

“Don’t leave me,” Mason rushes out in a whisper. His eyes crease as if he’s in physical pain. Fingers curling in over Jeremy’s cheek. “Please don’t fucking leave me, Iz.”

Jeremy recoils like someone slapped him. Heavy footsteps approach from the corner—Shawn—but I quickly throw up a hand, stopping him. Distantly, I hear Will’s shuffling feet, as if he, too, wants to intervene.

“Mason,” I grit out, ignoring everyone but my asshole best friend. “Get up.”

He blinks a couple times, as if coming out of a trance. Jeremy’s hands have fallen to his sides, and he seems to be staring right through me. A thick sheen of tears coats his honey brown eyes, and I’m seconds away from doing something I know I’ll regret.

Too far.