CHAPTER 7: SISTERS AND SECRETS
POV: Josie
The Salvatore School library after hours felt like a cathedral dedicated to forbidden knowledge. Tall windows cast moonlight across polished floors, and the silence carried weight—the kind that suggested ancient secrets sleeping between leather-bound covers. Josie moved through the stacks with practiced quiet, knowing exactly where to find her brother during his increasingly frequent research sessions.
She found Alen at a corner table surrounded by grimoires that definitely shouldn't have been accessible to students. Dark magic theory. Necromantic principles. Soul manipulation techniques. The titles alone made her skin crawl, but Alen studied them with the focused intensity of someone preparing for war.
When did you become this? she wondered, watching him from behind a shelf of botanical texts. When did you stop being my brother and start being... whatever this is?
Three weeks had passed since the proximity arrangement began, three weeks of watching Alen orbit Hope like a devoted satellite. He attended her classes, sat with her at meals, walked her to her dorm every night with the careful attention of a bodyguard. The Hollow remained dormant, Hope seemed happier than she'd been in months, and everyone agreed the arrangement was working perfectly.
Everyone except the people who'd been gradually erased from Alen's life.
Family dinners had become solo affairs when Alen started eating exclusively with Hope. Movie nights in the common room happened without him—he was always studying or discussing magical theory or helping Hope with homework that somehow required his constant presence. Even casual conversations had become rushed affairs, interrupted by Hope's proximity needs or Alen's mysterious research projects.
We used to matter, Josie thought, hurt coiling tight in her chest. He used to ask for my help with spell theory. Used to want my opinion on magical applications. Now he doesn't need anyone.
The irony was devastating. Her brother had become everything she'd always wanted to be—powerful, confident, essential to solving supernatural crises. And in becoming that person, he'd left her behind completely.
Josie stepped out from behind the shelf, making enough noise to announce her presence. Alen looked up from a particularly disturbing treatise on soul extraction, and guilt flickered across his face like lightning.
"Jo. Hey. What are you doing here so late?"
"Looking for my brother." The words came out sharper than she'd intended. "You know, the one who used to spend time with his family?"
Alen closed the grimoire carefully, but not before Josie caught a
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