The climb wasn't difficult.
I just didn't want to be there.
"Cass! Hurry up—you're gonna miss it!"
Luca's voice carried down from above, light but urgent.
"I'm coming," I muttered, dragging myself up the last stretch of dirt and stone.
He'd been off all morning. Quieter than usual. Restless. Like something was sitting just beneath the surface, waiting.
I didn't ask.
I wasn't sure I wanted the answer.
When I reached the top, he was already at the edge, staring out over the ocean.
The sun was rising.
Gold bled into blue, pushing the dark away inch by inch. The wind cut sharp against my skin—but I barely felt it.
"See?" Luca said, glancing back. "Worth it."
I stepped beside him, hands in my pockets.
"…Yeah."
For a moment, everything stilled.
No noise. No pressure.
No weight pressing down on my chest.
Just quiet.
"Cassian…"
Something in his voice changed.
Softer.
Careful.
"Why do you want to kill yourself?"
My lungs stopped.
The world didn't move—but something inside me did. A sharp crack, like glass splitting under pressure.
"What?" I let out a short laugh. Too quick. Too thin. "What are you talking about?"
Luca didn't look at me.
"You don't have to lie."
"I'm not lying."
"Cass."
Just my name.
And somehow, that hit harder than anything else.
I turned away, jaw tightening. "You're imagining things."
"Am I?"
"You think I don't notice?" he continued quietly. "The way you look at things. The way you don't react. Like you're already gone."
My chest tightened.
"Stop."
But he didn't.
"You think you hide it well—but you don't. Not from me."
"Stop."
"I've known you too long."
"I said stop!"
The words tore out of me before I could catch them.
"What do you want me to say?" My voice shook. "That I'm fine? That everything's great? You want me to lie to you too?"
Luca flinched—but didn't step back.
"That's not what I—"
"You don't get it!" I snapped. "You don't know what it's like to wake up and wish you didn't. To feel nothing and everything at the same time. To be stuck like this—every day."
My fists clenched.
"You don't know what that's like."
The moment the words left my mouth—
I knew.
I'd gone too far.
Because I did know.
At least part of it.
He had cancer.
And I had just thrown that aside like it meant nothing.
Silence settled between us.
Cold. Heavy.
"…Cass," he said quietly.
Not angry.
Not defensive.
Just… tired.
"Please," he added. "Just talk to me."
My voice dropped.
"…How did you know?"
Luca exhaled softly, eyes drifting back to the horizon.
"I guessed."
A pause.
Then—
"…No. I didn't."
He glanced at me.
"I've always noticed. You just hoped I wouldn't."
The wind picked up, brushing past us.
"I'm not just anyone," he said. "I'm your friend. Maybe even your brother."
His gaze unfocused slightly.
"And sometimes… I feel like you don't really see me at all."
Something about that didn't sit right.
"You think I don't know you?" I shot back. "You're the only person I care about. Of course I know you."
He gave a faint smile.
"That's the problem."
I frowned. "What does that even mean?"
"It means…" he said, turning back to the sunrise, "you see what you want to see."
I didn't respond.
Because part of me understood—
and didn't want to.
"It's fine," he said after a moment. "You don't have to tell me today."
The tension eased. Slightly.
"Let's just sit here," he added. "While we can."
We didn't talk much after that.
The sun climbed.
The cold faded.
The moment passed.
But something had changed.
I could feel it.
Even if I didn't understand it yet.
By the time we got back, the house was quiet.
Too quiet.
We stepped inside.
The floor creaked beneath our feet.
Then—
"Where the hell were you!?"
Luca flinched.
"We were just—"
"Metania."
His father's voice cut through.
Calm.
Too calm.
"Leave them alone."
We both froze.
"I'll make dinner," he continued, not even looking at us. "Go to your room."
That wasn't normal.
Nothing about this was.
But neither of us argued.
The smell hit us first.
Warm. Familiar.
"…Do you smell that?" Luca asked.
"Yeah."
We both stopped.
"It's curry."
Our favorite.
We looked at each other—
then moved.
His father stood at the stove, stirring slowly. Precisely.
Like he'd done it a thousand times.
Except—
he hadn't.
"Sit," he said.
We did.
Luca's mother sat across from us, a glass of wine in her hand, eyes distant.
Something felt off.
Not wrong.
Just…
misaligned.
Dinner was quiet.
Too quiet.
And yet—
for a moment—
it felt like home.
That night, I slept.
And for the first time in a long time—
I didn't wake up empty.
I woke to the smell of blood.
Thick.
Metallic.
Wrong.
The house was dark.
Silent.
I moved before I could think.
The kitchen.
Moonlight stretched across the floor in pale lines.
And in the center—
I stopped.
My body locked.
My mind refused.
My mother hung from the ceiling.
Still.
Broken.
Something small beneath her.
I couldn't breathe.
My legs gave out.
I hit the floor—hands slipping in something warm.
My stomach twisted.
I didn't want to look.
But I did.
The dining room.
My father.
My sister.
Gone.
Everything—
gone.
"No…"
The word barely formed.
I stumbled back, panic crashing over me.
I ran—
And woke up.
I was on the floor.
Breathing hard.
Alive.
Sunlight poured through the window like nothing had happened.
Like it never had.
Luca was still asleep.
Peaceful.
Unchanged.
I curled in on myself.
The memory didn't fade.
It never did.
Six years.
No answers.
No reason.
No one to blame.
They called it a tragedy.
I called it a curse.
"Cass?"
Luca stirred behind me.
I wiped my face, forcing myself up.
"…Yeah?"
"You good?"
I hesitated.
Then—
"Yeah."
A lie.
Same as always.
But this time—
it felt thinner.
Something wasn't right.
The house felt… empty.
Not quiet.
Hollow.
Like something had been taken—
and replaced with something that only looked the same.
I noticed it when Luca laughed.
It didn't echo right.
Then—
knock.
Not loud.
Not urgent.
Just…
deliberate.
Luca's smile faded.
"Were you expecting someone?"
I shook my head.
Another knock.
Slower this time.
Something in my chest tightened as I stood.
"I'll get it," I said.
And for a second—
just a second—
I wished I hadn't.