---- Chapter 20 Brandon Carlson POV: The moment Brett Blevins burst into my study and punched me in the face, | knew. "Where is she?" he roared, his eyes wild with panic. "What have you done with her?" "What are you talking about?" | asked, tasting blood in my mouth. A part of me knew the answer before he even said it. "Aurora. She's gone. She went to the restroom at the bar an hour ago and never came back." He shoved a small, silver object into my hand. A hairpin. One | recognized. "Caryl," | breathed, the name like a curse on my lips. | was on the phone in an instant, barking orders. "Track Caryl's location. Now!" Brett was still glaring at me, his fists clenched. "If anything happens to her, Carlson, | swear to God, | will destroy you." "Then help me find her, you idiot!" | yelled, my own fear a raw, tearing thing in my chest. "We're wasting time!" The warehouse was on the abandoned side of the docks. We arrived at the same time, our rivalry forgotten in the face of a ---- shared terror. The door was unlocked. Inside, the scene was a nightmare. Aurora was tied to a chair, her face pale, a trickle of blood matting her dark hair. And Caryl was holding a knife to her throat. A timer on the wall was ticking down. Less than three minutes. "Well, look who it is," Caryl sneered, her one good eye glittering with madness. "The happy couple. Come to join the party?" "Let her go, Caryl," | said, my voice shaking. "This is between you and me." "Oh, but it's always been about her, hasn't it?" she shrieked. "You love her! Admit it!" "Yes," | said, my eyes locked on Aurora's. "I love her. Now let her go." Caryl smiled, a slow, terrifying stretching of her lips. She pressed the knife harder against Aurora's skin, a thin line of red welling up. "It doesn't matter," she whispered. "Once she's gone, you'll come back to me. You'll be my Brandon again." She raised the knife, preparing to plunge it into Aurora's heart. | didn't think. | just moved. | threw myself in front of Aurora, a human shield. The pain was a sharp, searing agony in my chest. | looked down. The hilt of the knife was protruding from just above my ---- heart. Aurora's eyes were wide with shock, her beautiful face a mask of horror. Caryl stared at the knife, at me, and then she started to laugh, a high, unhinged sound that echoed in the cavernous warehouse. The timer on the wall beeped. One minute left. "Brett," | gasped, the word a struggle. "Get her out of here." He didn't hesitate. He untied Aurora and swept her into his arms, running for the exit. Caryl lunged for them, but | grabbed her arm, my grip surprisingly strong. She was not going to hurt Aurora again. As Brett carried her out the door, Aurora looked back over his shoulder. Her eyes met mine one last time. | smiled. It was the first genuine smile | had given in a very long time. "Live well, Farah," | whispered. Then, the world exploded in a blaze of white-hot light. One month later. Aurora stood before my grave, a single white rose in her hand. The inscription was simple: Brandon Carlson. Beloved Son and ---- Brother. Brett stood a respectful distance away. "The police told me his last words," he said quietly. "Do you want to know what they were?" She was silent for a long moment. Then she shook her head. "No. It doesn't matter anymore." She placed the rose on the cold marble and turned away, taking Brett's offered hand. "Let's go home, Brett," she said. As they walked away, she glanced back one last time at the tombstone. Goodbye, Brandon, she thought. | hope, in the next life, we never meet again.