---
The word hung in the air, fragile and uncertain. "A brother," Evie whispered, her voice trembling as if testing the truth of it. The weight of the revelation settled over her like a suffocating blanket, and for a moment, she couldn't breathe.
Jarad stood quietly, watching her, his eyes carefully guarded. He knew the impact of his words; he'd carried the burden of this moment for years, imagining how it might unfold. Yet nothing had prepared him for the raw vulnerability etched into her face or the visible battle she waged with her own thoughts.
The question hit her like a stone dropped into still water, sending ripples through her carefully constructed reality. A brother? The very idea splintered something within her. Memories—fragmented, incomplete, and fleeting—began to surface. A hand tucking her in at night. A voice, soft and reassuring, telling her stories to chase away the dark. Someone sharing food with her, even when there wasn't enough for themselves.
The memories weren't clear, but they were real.
She clutched her head, trying to force the images away as a sharp pain began to bloom behind her eyes. She couldn't reconcile them with her life—her parents had never spoken of a brother. Not once. And yet, the memories told a different story, one she wasn't ready to accept.
Jarad saw her distress and felt the sharp sting of guilt twist in his chest. He knew he'd broken something within her, shattered the fragile normality she'd clung to. "You probably don't remember," he said softly, his voice tinged with a sadness that came from years of isolation. "But there was a time when the slums were overrun by disease. People were desperate. Then some strangers came, calling themselves specialists. They offered a cure, something to save the sick. Our parents…" He hesitated, the words bitter on his tongue. "They agreed to let me go. They thought it was the right thing to do. They thought I'd be saved."
Evie's breath hitched. Her pacing quickened, her thoughts spiraling into chaos. "Why should I believe you?" she asked, her voice breaking under the strain. She stopped abruptly, staring at him with wide, searching eyes.
Her disbelief stung, but Jarad had expected it. "I'm not asking you to," he said evenly, though his voice wavered ever so slightly.
The air between them grew thick with tension. Evie's mind raced, struggling to make sense of the whirlwind of emotions and revelations. Her parents had always been careful, guarded about their past. She'd never questioned it—not really. But now, those fleeting moments of tension, the way their voices would drop when certain topics arose, all came rushing back.
"You're lying," she said, her voice trembling. "You have to be lying."
Jarad didn't flinch. He didn't defend himself. He only looked at her, his eyes steady and filled with a quiet pain. "Why would I lie about this?"
"I don't know!" she shouted, her voice rising with frustration. "Maybe you're just some crazy stalker trying to mess with me! You followed me home, didn't you?"
Jarad let out a soft sigh, the weight of her accusation pressing down on him. He stood slowly, his movements deliberate, measured. "If that's what you think," he said, his tone sharp but not unkind, "then leave. Walk away and forget this ever happened."
The words hung in the air like a challenge.
For a moment, Evie froze. His calmness unsettled her. He wasn't angry, wasn't pleading. He just stood there, as if resigned to whatever choice she made. Her stomach twisted.
Without another word, she turned and walked away.
---
Jarad watched her retreat, his heart splintering with each step she took. He had spent years imagining this moment, clinging to the hope of seeing her again. The thought of her had kept him alive through the worst of it—the endless experiments, the blood, the isolation. She was the reason he'd endured, the reason he'd fought so hard to survive.
And now she was leaving.
He let out a bitter laugh, running a hand through his curls. He'd known this was a possibility. He'd prepared himself for the rejection. But knowing didn't make it hurt any less. The pain was sharper than anything he'd endured, cutting straight to the core of him.
A sound broke through his thoughts.
Soft footsteps.
His eyes snapped up, widening as he saw her turn back. She stopped a few feet away, her face a mixture of uncertainty and determination.
"If you're really my brother," she began, her voice trembling, "then why didn't you come back? Why now?"
Jarad's heart clenched at the question. He'd expected it, but that didn't make answering any easier. For a moment, he was silent, his mind flickering back to the years he'd spent trapped in that place. The beatings, the experiments, the training—it all came rushing back, but he forced it down.
"That place…" he began, his voice low and measured, "wasn't what they promised. The disease they claimed to cure wasn't just a disease. It broke us down—destroyed us from the inside out. But then it rebuilt us—stronger, faster, more resilient. Once that process was done, they didn't let us go. They trained us, forced us to fight. To kill."
Evie's breath caught. "You… killed people?"
He closed his eyes, shame flickering across his face. "I didn't have a choice," he said softly. "They didn't give us choices, Evie. And by the time I was strong enough to try to escape, it was too late. I'd become something else."
She stared at him, the weight of his words sinking in. "Then what changed? Why are you here now?"
"They gave me a reward," he said bitterly. "A few weeks of freedom. A chance to go wherever I wanted. But I didn't come back just because I could." His voice softened, his gaze locking with hers. "I came back for you."
Evie's expression faltered. The name he'd given her—Jarad—stirred something deep within her. Memories began to surface, faint but unmistakable.
She saw his face, younger and softer, telling her stories to distract her from their hunger. She remembered running through the rain with him, his laughter mingling with hers as they splashed through the muddy streets. She remembered the warmth of his arms, the safety she'd felt in his presence.
"Jarad…" she whispered, her voice breaking.
And suddenly, she knew.
She crossed the distance between them in an instant, throwing her arms around him. Jarad stiffened, unaccustomed to the warmth of an embrace, but slowly, his arms came up to hold her. One hand threaded gently through her hair, and for the first time in years, a small, genuine smile touched his lips.
They held each other tightly, the weight of the years between them dissolving.
Finally, after all this time, they were together again.
---