The bottle felt heavier than it should've in my hand.
I tipped it back, the alcohol burning a straight line down my throat as my Adam's apple bobbed. I never drank. Never needed to. But nothing about my life felt familiar anymore, so I figured the rules didn't apply either.
That saint shit was over.
Long dead.
…And I was an idiot for ever thinking I'd find it with Lila.
Behind me, a small group had gathered—soldiers, medics, a few civilians. Someone had started a fire. Someone else had music playing low. It wasn't a celebration. Just people trying to pretend the world hadn't almost swallowed us whole.
After what happened, pretending felt necessary.
I heard footsteps behind me and took another swig before turning.
Aubrey dropped down beside me on the steps, a cigarette already lit between her fingers.
"I never thought I'd see the day Adrian Carter started drinking," she said.
I frowned.
She did too, like she'd surprised herself.
"Life's beating the brakes off you, huh?"
