His arms gave her a squeeze. "He does. I talked to him, explained that he had family he had to go to, and he understood. He's sharp. Then, I placed him in an orphanage and led your brother right to him."
She swallowed. "What's… my br… my brother like?"
There was a long pause. "He leads the mafia operations in Shadow Port. He's determined, lethal, and he's not stopped looking for you since you were taken from him twenty-two years ago."
The honest, matter-of-factness of his words made her close her eyes as she absorbed them. Her brother. He was in the underworld too. And he had been searching for her.
"What's his name?" her voice croaked.
"Tristan Caine," the man behind her spoke, his voice neutral.
"And… what's my name?"
A hand turned her face to the side, her eyes locking with his in the moonlight. "Luna."
Luna. It felt strange. She didn't feel like a Luna.
She looked at him, unable to process it all, unable to understand everything she was feeling. "Why didn't you tell me?"
He stayed quiet for a long minute, so long she almost thought he wouldn't answer her. "At first, I didn't know. By the time I did, you were starting to self-harm in thoughts, and I had to keep you hanging in for the answers."
"And you didn't think telling me I had a brother, that Xander was with family, would have helped me hang on?"
It was odd hearing the bitterness in her voice. He leveled a steady look at her. "Would it have? If I'd told you you had family and the kid was safe, would you have hung on?"
She didn't know. Back then, she'd been a different girl, with a mindset she didn't go into anymore. She didn't know how she would have behaved. But that didn't let his off the hook.
"And what about after? When you took me home? You still couldn't have said anything?"
He sighed, the only outward reaction to whatever was happening inside him. "You would have left me."
She blinked. "What?"
"If I'd told you then, you would have left me, and I didn't know if you'd return. And I couldn't risk that. Dr. Manson also advised me not to put too much on your mind."
She turned her neck away, unable to keep her eyes on him, anger coming to the forefront of her mind again. "So you lied to me by omission."
He didn't say anything.
A dark laugh left her. "So what? Now that I love you, it's okay for me to know? Was that your plan? To make my stupid heart fall for you every damn day until I had no choice but to be with you? So that even if I left, I'd be with you? Was that it?"
His silence spoke volumes.
Done with him, done with everything, she pushed off from the ground. He started to get up but she pushed her palm out, stopping him. "I can't see you right now. I need some fucking space. Don't you dare come after me."
His jaw clenched but he stayed where he was, and she walked away the same way she'd come, hands in her pockets, not looking back at him. She walked back to the industrial block, past the factory now burning, her eyes lingering on the flames and smoke of her past. Whoever she had been in there months ago, the shell of a girl, ashes of her own being, was gone. She had risen, been reborn, and watching the flames, she could feel the heat of their kiss on her skin. The fire, once terrifying, was now her lover, and it was this fire that had purified her, reset her, rekindled her.
Acknowledging that, remembering the power she had taken back before she had killed her tormentor, she walked past the factory and toward the main street, merging into the noise and hustle of the city. She didn't know if he followed her, and frankly, she didn't care. She just walked and walked and walked, one with the crowd, her mind numb and reeling simultaneously.
The scent of tea broke through her haze. She looked to the side to find a small food shop, the wonderful scent wafting from the inside, and she entered. It was quaint. Going to the back of the shop, she ordered herself some herbal tea and a pastry, and took her phone out. Dainn had given her the device when they'd left home, guiding her on how to use it for everything—from calling to paying someone to sending a text.
But as she stared at the screen, she opened the search bar, her fingers hesitating.
And then she typed.
'Tristan Caine'.
She found a few hits, some newspaper articles, some images. Hands shaking, she clicked on one of the photos, to look down at a good-looking man with bright blue eyes. Lyla stared at the photo for a long second, unable to grasp if it was his features that looked familiar or if she'd seen him somewhere. Scrolling to the next photo, she gasped. It was him with a brunette in glasses, both of them looking at each other, the caption reading 'Tristan Caine and Morana Vitalio rumored to be engaged'.