You Are Mine Little Sister (by Syra Tucker) novel Chapter 178

"Hi. Didn't mean to startle you," she waved at me.

It made me wonder: had my fear been that obvious?

She had this kind of rigid face. Really beautiful, but set in a way that told you she didn't tolerate nonsense.

Even the way she appeared looked tough—Cargo pants with a black crop top. Her hair was held in a perfectly high ponytail.

"C—Can I help you with something?" My fingers found my necklace and worried it.

I had no idea why the hell I did that, but it was something I couldn't do without when I was nervous.

"Yeah. I was just looking for—" She paused.

She must've noticed what I was staring at—the red mark near her hairline. Did she get into a fight?

"A pharmacy," she finished. "Ran into a crackhead and got clipped." She touched the spot, light and dismissive. "Don't worry, he looks worse than I do."

I managed a small smile. "S—Sorry about that. I think there's one down the street. Just take your left when you get to the T-road."

She craned back to look down the street. "Got it. Thanks a lot, girl."

She started to go, then glanced around.

"You live here?" She tipped her chin toward the house. "Sorry if I'm being nosy. It just looks a lot like what my grandmother used to have. I used to like her place a lot."

I smiled again as I looked where she looked. Marovelle's house was old, yes, but it had the kind of warmth that made you imagine quilts and late-night tea. No one would call it modern—half the appliances sulked before they worked—but it was lovely in the way a well-read book is lovely.

"Thanks," I nodded at the coffee eyes lady. "I'll let her know someone complimented the house."

Good job, Rali. Social skills: a blazing thirty percent.

"Her?" She lifted a brow. "You live with your grandma as well? What a coincidence."

I laughed and shook my head. "I don't. And she'd kick you in the butts if she heard you called her that."

Impressive, Rali! I couldn't wait to tell my therapist about the awesome performance. She was going to be so proud she might buy me dinner.

"I see," she chuckled. "I better get going, then, so she doesn't meet me here and kick my ass. Thanks for the directions."

"Yeah, no problem."

We turned at the same time, me heading to the door.

'You see, Rali; it's fun when you interact with people.'

'There are a thousand people out there who are willing to be your friend.'

They knew they didn't have any options left. My beast eased back once the doors opened and closed behind them.

Finally, it was peaceful. Quiet.

I settled deeper into the seat and kept my eyes on the only door that mattered.

...

I'd watched two women go into the house. They looked harmless, and I figured it was safe as long as there was no man in there. There was no way I'd still be seated in this car if I'd seen a single Y-chromosome walk in.

A lot about her had changed. What happened to her eyes? Those favorite greens I could die for? And her hair. I'd loved the long fall of it, the way my fingers could travel there and come back scented. Now it skimmed her jaw as if she'd cut the past off at the root.

She was Rali, but the mirror had edited her. I couldn't pretend to be surprised. Those sons of bitches had snuffed her light. The only memory she had was one that started with pain. How the fuck was she supposed to stay the same?

"She's easily frightened," Katya's report kept looping. "She doesn't talk much, though she's trying. But she's nice. Her smile is still beautiful, just a little dull. There's a hint of Rali in there."

I failed her. I should've done more to protect her.

I wanted to pray she never forgives me, but even I wasn't selfless enough for that. Not when it tasted too much like losing her.

I closed my eyes and let my imaginations run wild. I tried to picture what she was doing. She was probably asleep, small on one side of the mattress. Was she alone in bed? Was she having a nightmare? Does she flinch when the pipes clang?

What would she do if she woke and found me in bed with her? Would she let me touch her again?