Sixty-nine
Lady Kenna
Oliver was drunk. He had been for two days since Evander and Fiona had been in accident. Evander had been found, then kidnapped. And Fiona had gone missing when the explosion had happened. We’d been taken home once the event had happened because my father was worried that we might be in danger too. Now, the two of us were sitting in Oliver’s room, as he drank our family’s wine and cried.
“He h-h-he can’t be dead,” said Oliver.
He was on the ground, leaning up against his bed. I was also leaning up against his bed as well. “He was alive,” said Oliver, “he was alive, in the hospital. If he’s alive, Fiona has to be alive too.”
I didn’t know what to say. I had never seen my brother like this. My strong, confident brother was a mess. He was hur
