I looked back at Micah, searching for a trace of the friend I used to know, the boy I had once trusted. But all I could see was the crest on his chest. The weight of his betrayal. “Why are you here?” My voice was hoarse, raw from screaming, from choking, from struggling. Micah’s jaw tightened. He hesitated. Then, finally, he spoke. “I didn’t have a choice.” The words were quiet, but heavy, like an anchor pulling him under. “Your father…” He stopped. Looked away. Something flickered behind his eyes, guilt, fear, regret. Then he whispered something that sent ice through my veins. “My sister.”
