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Kinsley stepped into the shower and started humming softly.

The jagged remnants of my toenails caught the light. The crimson polish was chipped in several places, gone entirely from my left pinkie toe. I curled my toes and sank them into the bathmat.

“Despite the circumstances, being paired with her still meant the world to me.”

I slowly dragged the ball of my foot across the mat. Back and forth. The friction ground against my skin, creating a rasp that anchored my spiraling mind.

“I’m going to join Kinsley. Sure would love it if you would stand with us. United. If not for me, maybe Winter?”

As she spoke, she stepped in, leaving me standing there alone. A few minutes went by. The conversation between them drifted into safer territory. All thanks to Kinsley.

“This shower is ridiculously small,” she announced. “It would never fit a King and me.”

“You would go there,” Tori answered.

“I’m just saying. Did I tell you about that one time when it was me, Alek, and Nikolai? In the shower? In Seattle?”

“No, but let me guess? You’re about to.”

“No, seriously. It was epic. Or at least I think it was.”

“You think? Are you saying you don’t remember it?”

“Not in its entirety. It was after the fire.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, I was drugged.”

Tori sputtered, “They drugged you?”

“No silly. I did it to myself. Never drink and take sleeping pills.”

“Duh. You think?”

“No, I’m serious. I do remember they didn’t get completely naked. They were good boys and kept their boxer briefs on. We were like an ice cream sandwich, with me in the middle.”

Despite the hollow ache sitting permanently beneath my ribs, my mouth threatened to twitch. The thought of Alek and Nik standing in the shower with their boxers on and of Kinsley smashed between them was hilarious.

The sound of them washed over me. It was familiar and safe. It was reminiscent of every day I spent in their presence. Nights where we’d randomly text one another to meet in the kitchen for a late-night snack.

Tears swarmed my vision. Long car rides. Late nights curled beneath blankets, watching terrible movies while Kinsley mouthed lines.

Kinsley gasped dramatically. “I’m wounded. You’ve betrayed me. Artist, the Pianist is making fun of me again.”

I’d missed whatever Tori had said. But it didn’t matter. For once, the silence inside my bedroom wasn’t the loudest thing in my world. I hated how much I’d missed them. My fingers curled around the hem of my shirt.

Slowly, I peeled it over my head. I lost the rest of my clothes and approached the shower. My fingers hovered as I reached for the curtain.

Should this have been awkward?

If we were normal, sure. But we weren’t. Our bond would never be normal. We were pieces of a quartet. A broken one with a whole ass missing piece. I pulled the curtain back.

The faces of my Season Sisters greeted me. Tori moved to the side, and I stepped between them.

The warm water struck my shoulders first, then my hair, running in quiet streams down my back. The only sound was the steady rhythm of water against tile.

I closed my eyes as a strange feeling coursed through me. The warmth couldn’t wash away the grief. It couldn’t wash away the guilt. But standing shoulder to shoulder with my sisters somehow felt right.