“Because you’re my brother,” I say without pause, “and I’d rather be with you than against you.” I can’t fight with Ryke. I need him on my side until the very end, until one of us is chosen. Maybe one day Connor and Ryke will pull away from me, and I’ll no longer lean on them for support. But it’s only been four months since I last drank alcohol, and their fears have become mine. Of relapsing. I need him. I need my brother.
