“I see your sister hasn’t been by,” I remark, touching my fingers to the thin layer of dust on the headstone. Another sign Nikitahasn’t been here in a while. “I’m to blame for that. I lost her.”
“Yes. But I’ll find her.”
If Kira was here, she would have raised a skeptical eyebrow. But unlike her voice, Kira’s is blurry in my memory. Indistinct.Like I’m gazing at her through water. It should be the clearest of them all, with Nikita being a living reminder by my side, butfor some reason, it’s not. The only time I can see her again is once a year, when I stare into the eyes of her portrait.
I wonder if this is why Nikita comes by every week.
Because she doesn’t want to forget.
Fuck, what wouldn’t I give to forget?
“There’s someone else I might lose.” I don’t put fresh flowers into her v
