24.

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24.

JACE FOUND ME slumped against a tree outside my house, my face buried in my hands. I sobbed, my entire body shaking as I wailed into my dirt-covered palms, the grit digging into my cheekbones.

I heard his shoes sink into the grass in front of me. He didn't hesitate. He dropped to his knees beside me, pulling me into his arms. I cried out, letting him pull me close, letting him wrap his arms around me.

"You're okay," he murmured beside my ear. "It's okay."

He rubbed his hand over my back, and I rested my forehead against his chest, the cries tearing through me. My leg twisted awkwardly beneath me, throbbing after I'd run all the way home. My fingers grabbed at his shirt, tugging him closer, hiding my face from him.

I was embarrassed.

I was ashamed.

I couldn't even sit in a car for a five-minute drive. Maybe my mom was right. Maybe I was weak. Maybe I'd never go back to normal.

My heart ached and I let out another sob, feeling my throat scratch with each wail.

No matter how much I tried – no matter how much I pretended – I'd never be normal again. I couldn't sit in a car. I couldn't go to parties. The colour red wasn't the colour red anymore. It was blood. It was the red light that the other driver sped through. It was the red sirens on the ambulance.

Nothing would ever be the same again. There was no point.

"Jasmine," Jace muttered. He carefully peeled himself away from me and I hiccupped, swiping at my eyes. I knew they were red and swollen. I probably looked horrible right now, but I didn't care.

Nothing mattered, really.

"You did so good."

I blinked. "What?"

"You did great. You got in the car while I drove. You did it!"

My face burned. My entire body burned. The very blood in my veins burned. I turned away, glaring into the ground beside me.

"I did horrible, Jace," I spat. "I lasted, like, a minute. The entire time I thought I was going to vomit or pass out. I'm broken, Jace. I broke the day Amber died. Nothing's going to change that. It's all pointless."

He was silent for a moment. Then, he grabbed my arms, so tightly that I winced and spun to face him.

"Ouch, Jace –"

"Don't you fucking dare say that."

"What?"

He glared at me, the gold in his eyes darkening to bronze. "Don't you dare say it's pointless. Don't you dare call yourself broken like it's a bad thing or give up on me like that."

"But I am broken, Jace! Whether you want to admit it or not, I'm broken! I can't even get into a fucking car anymore! It's so fucking pointless –"

He cut me off by grabbing my hand and shoving my sleeve up, revealing the raised, white skin on my wrist. My old scars.

"Nothing is pointless," he said sternly. He traced a finger over my scars. A shiver scuttered down my spine. While the hand gripping mine was tight and painful, the finger that traced over my wrist was gentle – barely there. "Did you forget what I taught you? Maybe you broke when Amber died. Maybe you'll never be the same –"

"Gee, thanks."

"But –" he interrupted, cutting me a sharp look– "that doesn't mean you'll never be happy again. That doesn't mean trying is pointless. Your history – your scars – it makes you stronger. You can get through this, Jasmine. If you could survive that accident, if you could survive losing Amber and relearning to walk, you can survive this. You've gotten so far already."

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