SIXTEEN
Kenji is back after only a couple of hours. His face ashen, his hands trembling. He’s breathing hard and his eyes are unfocused and he sits down on the couch without a word and I’m already panicking.
“What happened?” I ask.
“What’s going on?” Lily says.
“You okay, bro?” This from Ian.
We pepper him with questions and he doesn’t answer. He stares, unblinking, a replica of Castle, who’s sitting in a chair across from him.
Finally, after a long moment of silence, he speaks.
Three words.
“Juliette is dead.”
Chaos.
Questions are flying and screams are muffled and everyone is shocked, horrified, freaking out.
I’m stunned.
My brain feels paralyzed, unwilling to process or digest this information. Why? I want to ask. How? How? How is it possible?
But I can’t speak. I’m frozen in horror. Grief.
“It wasn’t Warner who came after her,” Kenji is saying, tears falling fast down his face. “It was Anderson. Those were Anderson’s men. They made the announcement just a couple hours ago,” he says, choking on the words. “They said they bombed Omega Point, captured Juliette, and killed her just this morning. The supreme has already headed back to the capital.”
“No,” I gasp.
“We should’ve gone after her,” Kenji is saying. “I should’ve stayed behind—I should’ve tried to find her—it’s my fault,” he says, hands in his hair, fighting back tears. “It’s my fault she’s dead. I should’ve gone after her—”
“It’s not your fault,” Ian says to him, rushing over and grabbing his arms. “Don’t you dare put that on yourself.”
“We lost a lot of people,” Lily says. “People dear to us that we couldn’t save. This is not your fault. I promise. We did our best.”
Everyone is consoling Kenji now, trying to reassure him that there’s no guilt necessary. No person to blame for all this.
But I can’t agree.
I trip backward until I hit the wall, leaning against it for support. I know who to blame. I know where the fault lies.
Juliette is dead because of me.