Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 104141 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104141 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
Even now. . .after I’d killed his father. . .that secret remained.
I thought about how Reo always kept a bottle of his mother's favorite perfume on his nightstand. We never talked about why he did it, but after a few months he would always need to buy a new one.
Reo was using it in some way.
I often imagined he sprayed the fragrance in the air before he went to sleep and thought of her when he closed his eyes.
Perhaps, the scent would linger in the darkness and give him some sense of peace. And maybe in the morning, he would wake to a room that smelled like his mother. . .and that would comfort him too.
I smelled that scent now and fisted my hands at my sides.
Whiplash.
That was the word for what I had experienced. The only word my mind would hand me. Minutes ago, we’d all been laughing, drinking, and eating.
It had been joy.
And then the curtains opened and the emotions quickly reversed.
Just like that.
Like a car hitting a wall at full speed. The body going one direction, the world going the other, and the soft tissue between them tearing because flesh was not built to change direction that fast.
Within me, joy and grief collided inside my chest. Laughter still caught in my throat while sorrow crawled up to meet it. I could feel both at once—the aftertaste of cherry sake on my tongue and the smell of wax in my sinuses.
My Tiger had put a dragon’s claw into the center of my ballroom and then opened graves toward the back.
What did she want my men to do?
One by one, climb into them?
Bury themselves into the grief of old things that should be forgotten?
So much anger pulsed within me that my breathing had gone uneven.
Nyomi left my side and got in front of us. “Tonight. . .we not only celebrate life. . .but. . .we remember our dead.”
We all remained frozen.
The violin wept.
The flames on the lit candles swayed.
“This is a space for you to. . .release anything you want.” She scanned all of our faces. “If you feel the need to. . .go ahead and go up to the altar.”
No one moved.
“Light a candle,” she continued. “For the people you’ve lost.”
Kaede shifted his weight to his other foot.
“Take your time.” She slowly nodded. “Speak to them. I believe they can hear you. Pray to them. I believe they would be soothed.”
The line of my jaw twitched.
“If you. . .need more. . .” She pointed to the side. “There are monks here to guide you.”
I snapped my head toward the edges of the space, and there they were. Five fucking monks wearing robes and standing just beyond the candlelight.
My stomach turned.
I put my gaze back on my Tiger.
“Alright.” Nyomi placed her hands behind her. “We can begin.”
Absolutely not. Sorry, Tora, but we’re not doing this.
And then my Roar moved.
I gritted my teeth.
Reo walked past us and began muttering words.
Is he speaking Thai?
Without any hesitation, Reo walked straight to his mother’s picture, lowered to his knees, picked up the matchbook, and struck.
I swallowed.
More Thai flowed from Reo as he lit the three candles on her altar. Once done, he brought his hands together in front of his chest and continued to whisper.
I drowned in discomfort, not used to seeing him like this. It made me turn away.
Kaede stepped forward next and gave the rest of us a quick nervous glance.
No. Don’t do this.
Kaede’s shoulders were tight and his jaw set as he slowly headed over to his grandfather’s picture.
I let out a long shivering breath when Kaede reached the altar and dropped to his knees.
When he lit the candles, his fingers shook.
I have to stop this.
Toma went next at this awkward pace where he kept his gaze on his feet. And when he reached his family's frame, his shoulders rose and fell in breaths that came too fast. His hands opened and closed at his sides.
He didn't light the candles, but he did fall to his knees.
Daisuke was already moving, heading to his baby sister like a man approaching the most sacred and dangerous object in a space. It took him no time to light the candles and when he did, he didn’t lower to his knees. He simply held his hands to his chest as tears left his eyes.
I turned to Nyomi and sneered.
She widened her eyes.
Meanwhile the twins looked at their mother’s picture, yet didn’t go up. One dragged his fingers through his hair like he was trying to pull himself out of his own skin. The other stared without blinking, eyes fixed and hollow, as if looking too closely might make her disappear for good.
Neither reached for the other like they usually did.
Neither spoke.
There was no synchronization.
In this moment, they were individuals processing in different ways. The mirror that had held them together since birth held them apart now. Each one was trapped on his own side of something they had always shared.