He called as though that na would never, ever be forgotten.
"Linnie," Bryer called again, his eyes matching the desperation in his tone. "You are really here."
His lips were about curl into a fond excitent when a voice broke the illusion.
"Bryer!?" Clara called softly.
He blinked and looked again, only to see Clara standing there, her brows furrowed in clear discomfort.
His brows twisted as well. The sa unease stirred in his heart —the kind that always surfaced whenever he thought of Adelyn.
"Ahh–" Clara winced, trying to pull her hand from Bryer’s grip. "Can you let go? It’s hurting ."
Only then did Bryer realize that he had been holding her hand and his fingers were curled too tightly around his wrist.
"I am sorry," he said at once, releasing her. "I didn’t notice."
Clara rubbed her hands, trying to soothe the sting. "It’s fine. It doesn’t hurt anymore."
Bryer’s gaze lingered on her wrist, and his frown deepened. Not because Clara’s pain ant nothing to him —but because it reminded him of how much worse it must have been for Adelyn, when the ropes had cut into her skin.
It must have hurt her far more than this.
Yet that day, they had chose to ignore her pain —in convenience—just so Clara could remain safe.
Weren’t they just being too cruel to her?
His fingers tightened around the glass, and his jaw flexed in irritation.
"Bryer," Clara called softly, "are you fine?" Her concern seed genuine on the surface, yet discomfort flickered beneath it.
Bryer glanced at her briefly. He couldn’t hide the frustration in his eyes. He wasn’t angry with her —but with himself. And at that mont, he couldn’t tell the difference.
"Clara, what are you doing here?" His brows jutting in a small but clear furrow. "It’s so late. Shouldn’t you be in your room, preparing to sleep?"
"I was going to bed," Clara replied, her voice sweet as usual, "but then I saw you sitting here alone. So, I ca to check on you. Is everything okay?"
Bryer didn’t answer. He simply nodded and took a sip from his glass.
Clara watched him for a while. When he still didn’t look her way, she asked hesitantly, "Are you upset with , Bryer? Did I do sothing wrong?"
He frowned and looked up, confusion and irritation crossing his face. But when he noticed how aggrieved she looked, he realized his earlier words might not been gentle.
Guilt crept in, and he pinched the bridge of his nose.
Clara was his sister —the one they had finally brought back into their lives, just as they had always wanted. They couldn’t treat her unfairly. Not when she had finally accepted them all.
How had he failed to keep his promise?
"Bryer?"
"Of course not," he said quickly, lifting his head and forcing a smile to mask his earlier expression. "Everything is fine. I just wanted so fresh air, so I ca to sit here. You are always so sweet —how could you upset ?"
Clara smiled, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. She stepped closer, about to sit beside him, when he stopped her abruptly.
"What are you doing?"
"I—I just thought I would keep you company," she said softly. "You have been away for so long. I missed you."
"Clara, it’s late." Bryer said, his voice firm. "You should go back, and rest now. We will catch up tomorrow."
"But —"
"I am not going anywhere," he cut in. "We will have ti. As for tonight ..."
He paused, then downed the glass in one go. "I am tired. I should rest too."
She forced a smile and nodded, though the unease in her eyes remained. "Alright. I will go first. You rest early, too."
Bryer nodded.
She turned to leave —but after a step, she stopped.
"Bryer," she spoke slowly, her voice trembling with hesitation —and sothing sharper beneath it. "Do you bla ?"
Bryer hadn’t been paying attention to her. So, when he heard her ask that, he failed to understand it for a mont.
"Bla you?" he repeated, confused. "For what?"
Clara didn’t turn around. With her back to him, she said, "For everything that ... that happened that day." Her voice wavered. "For losing Adelyn. Do you bla ?"
Bryer’s fingers clenched so tightly the glass in his hand nearly cracked.
"If I had known that she would do sothing like that, I — I wouldn’t have let you all choose . I would have sacrificed myself instead—"
"Clara!" Bryer snapped.
She flinched, but didn’t move
Setting the glass down, Bryer stood and walked over to her.
She turned away as he approached.
He frowned. Placing his hands over her shoulders, he slowly made her turn his way.
"Clara—"
"Bryer, trust , I never wanted things to turn out this way," she cried even before he could say anything. "Adelyn—she was like a sister to . I never wanted her to die. I never —please, don’t bla . Don’t ..."
Her body shook with sobs. Watching her like that, Bryer felt his heart tighten painfully.
She was their baby sister —the one they finally regained. How could they bear to see her in pain? Especially when she wasn’t really responsible for any of it.
She deserved to be cherished. By him. By all of them.
After all, she was the only sister he had left ...
Thinking that way, he cupped her face and t her eyes. "Clara ...shh. We don’t hate you. We were there that day. And we know you were a victim too. How could we bla you?"
Clara sniffled on her tears. "But Adelyn —"
"Adelyn was our sister," Bryer interrupted. "But we lost her. That day. And now, you are the only one we have. And we love you. Don’t ever doubt that. Alright?"
Clara nodded slowly.
"Good," he said, wiping away her tears. "You have cried so much. If your fans find this out, they might co after ."
"They won’t," Clara replied softly, dabbing her face off tears.
"Oh, then you would be surprised," Bryer said, taking a step back and slipping his hands in his pockets. "Just earlier, I was scrolling through Instagram, and I saw tons of them comnting on your posts, swearing that they would protect you even in hell."
Clara broke into a smile. "I don’t need them to protect . I have my brothers for that. Don’t I?"
Bryer froze.
A familiar voice echoed in his mory.
’I am blessed to be fearless. I will always have my brothers to protect .’
"Bryer!?"
He snapped back and nodded. "You are the only sister we have. If not you, who else would we protect?"
He then lifted a hand and gently brushed her hair, lovingly.
Clara smiled.
"Alright," Bryer said, checking his watch. "It’s actually getting late now. I don’t mind getting so dark circles —but you would cry over them. So, go and rest now."
She nodded and finally left.
Once she disappeared down the stairs, Bryer’s expression collapsed.
He turned and briskly walked back to the table and poured himself another drink before downing it in one go.
It burned his throat, but he didn’t mind.
Setting the glass down with a sharp clank, he muttered through clenched teeth. "Yes. We just have one sister left to protect. Adelyn is gone ... gone forever."
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