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Sophia's POV

It was well after midnight when I heard a key twist through the front door of Izzy's apartment. A second later, the sound of the door wrenching open echoed through the silent unit.

I winced and glanced down at my sister, but thankfully she remained sound asleep with her head in my lap. After the talk Elijah and I had with her, I'd convinced her to spend some more time with me. We'd been finishing the movie I'd started earlier, but she'd ended up falling asleep halfway through.

Even with her eyes closed, she looked so tired.

A small crash followed by a murmured curse traveled into the living room from the kitchen again, catching my attention once more.

My fingers paused in Izzy's hair as I turned my head towards the direction of the noise. I waited until I heard the front door shut before resuming the pattern I was drawing through her waves, quietly listening to what I knew was Ethan's drunken footsteps stumble through the kitchen.

A moment later, he appeared at the threshold of the living room, and I went utterly still at the sight of him—at the condition he was in.

Ethan looked like he'd been through hell and back.

His clothes were disheveled and soaking wet. His skin was glistening from the rain outside, and his ebony hair was dripping water onto the floor. I had a sight for these things, so even with the dim lighting of the living room, I could spot the bruises forming on him from where I was sitting. There was one on his cheekbone, as if he'd been hit by someone hard, and another by his jawline.

But it was his eyes that caught my attention.

They were bloodshot and glassy, which wasn't surprising since it was most likely a result of the substances he used, but they were also hollow. He looked so hollow; so goddamn lost as he stood there, staring at Izzy that my throat began to burn. It was an expression I'd seen him wear many times throughout the years, but there something different this time. There was something that scared me.

Something that made me think that I really needed to talk to him, even if he'd push me away.

"Come here," I said quietly, my voice thick with emotion as I patted the couch next to me.

Ethan's listless, empty gaze followed my hand, but he remained unmoving.

"Ethan, come sit by me," I repeated softly, offering him a warm smile. "Please."

I could feel the hesitation simmering off of him as he watched me, and the caution in his eyes made my heart feel heavier than it usually did. He had no trust inside of him. Nobody that he felt like he could talk to. Nobody that he truly believed was there for him.

Not since Mom.

Ethan hesitated another moment, before he moved towards me. I tracked him with my gaze as he took a seat next to me, every movement he made limp and lacking life. His dark eyes were dead as they settled on Izzy's sleeping face, before he pulled them away.

"Do they hurt?"

Ethan looked over at me and although he didn't say anything, I knew there was a question there somewhere.

"The bruises," I gestured to his face, keeping my voice soft. Ethan looked away. "Do they hurt?"

He shook his head briefly and the motion reminded me of a child. God, what had happened to him tonight? How deeply had Kaiden's words affected him? It was like all the light; all the usual fire had been drained out of him. 

My throat tightened. "Do you want some ice? It can help with the pain."

Ethan shook his head again, his gaze drifting towards Izzy again. "I'm good," he finally spoke, his voice hoarse and husky, as if he'd been deprived of sleep for a long time. "How was she today?"

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