GARRETT POV
Her brother was a ghost. Holy. f*****g. s**t.
I don’t mean that in a metaphorical, poetic, “oh he looks pale” kind of way. I mean that I was standing there, in the middle of a room full of people who apparently thought this was completely normal, watching a man who very clearly wasn’t alive anymore take shape right in front of us like someone had dragged him out of a place he should have stayed in, and nobody—not one of them—had thought it might be worth mentioning that detail to me beforehand.
That was why we couldn't use a phone.
This was Augustus.
Her brother.
Who was apparently dead.
Which, again, would have been useful information before this exact moment.
But sure.
Why not add that to the list.
My body reacted before my brain even had time to catch up with what
