Page 157 of Sin

A sob breaks free as I shove the flowers aside. That’s how Opal finds me.

“Honey. What is it?”

I gesture toward the flowers, still sobbing.

She either sees the card or understands enough to know that it’s nothing nice. Her face goes murderous.

“Come on, honey. Let’s get you inside.”

She unlocks my door with the key I gave her for emergencies, which apparently now includes public moral execution. She gets me inside, throws the flowers down the hall, locks the door, and guides me to the couch.

I sit.

Then I fold forward, elbows on my knees, and finally let the shaking take over.

Opal kneels in front of me.

“Hey,” she says softly. “Look at me.”

I try.

“You’re not what they’re calling you. You know that.”

My face crumples.

“You made choices,” she says. “Messy ones. Human ones. But you are not a headline or rage content.”

I laugh through tears. “I ruined everything, Opal.”

“No.” Her voice is firm. “Everything was already broken. You were just standing too close when it fell.”

My phone buzzes on the coffee table and Sin’s name lights up the screen.

Opal asks, “Want me to text him?”

I wipe my face. “What would you say?”

“That you’re alive, sick, with me, and not ready to talk.”

I nod and unlock my phone for her. She sends exactly that. A minute passes before the reply comes through.

Opal reads it silently and her expression changes.

“What?” I ask.

She hesitates.

“Opal.”

She turns the phone so I can see.

Tell her I’m sorry. Tell her I’ll fix what I can. Tell her I know I can’t fix all of it. Tell her I love her.

Everything inside me goes still. All of it narrows to those last four words. Tell her I love her. I stare at them until they blur.

Opal’s voice is soft. “Laurel?”

I cover my mouth with one hand A sob breaks through anyway.