Sebastian
She’s on me in a second, and I don’t stop for one single moment to question whether it is Morgan in control now or Vile. It no longer matters. They’re the same. We’re the same. For the first time maybe ever, even Avery and I feel nearly united. Vile’s little frame is a blur as she launches at me, then she’s in my arms. Her chest to my chest, her cheek to my cheek, my arms locked around her waist as hers lock around my neck. Avery howls with happiness.
All that matters is that the aching is gone. The horrible, splitting agony in my chest, in my heart, in my head. The pain of fighting Avery, fighting myself, all these years. The borrowed grief from Vile, the guilt, the rage. The madness of wanting. The f*****g loneliness. The worry about Sam, about Twist, the shame of it all. For
