Rion was dropped off at the Murphys’ in the morning. Mr. Blum offered them soft condolences and then he was off to work.

Noa’s aunt, uncle, and Peter were still getting ready for the funeral. Peter broke down crying in the living room and Aunt Elaine hurried to comfort him, already in tears herself.

Noa, not wanting to watch, went upstairs.

He hoped that Rion wouldn’t follow him. He hoped the barrier that was Amber’s bedroom door would keep him away. Noa had to turn away from it, facing the wall as he shuffled to his door. The hair stood up on the back of his neck and his breath came short.

He couldn’t look. He couldn’t. He didn’t want to see it.

Amber’s room was still the same, but it was missing Amber. She was gone. She was never coming back.

He made it to his room, but Rion followed him, copying him by edging along the wall. He’d closed his eyes tight, his face scrunched up in distress, feeling along the wall until he found the door to Noa’s room, pulling himself inside.

Noa turned away from Rion and the door.

His bandaged hand was aching. He picked at the fresh wrapping, wanting to peel it away. Whenever they unwrapped it, they treated it with special burn cream, and he was able to see the reddened, warped skin. It fascinated him and made him sick.

The doctor said he was lucky. He didn’t have nerve damage. He could still feel and draw and use his hand normally.

He was lucky.

Lucky, lucky, lucky, lucky Noa.

Lucky that his parents hadn’t drowned him. Lucky that he’d only fractured a rib. Lucky that he didn’t have brain damage from lack of oxygen. Lucky that he didn’t inhale too much water because the fingers wrapped around his throat squeezed so tight. Lucky that Mother was dead. Lucky that Father was in jail.

Lucky that the Murphys had taken him in. Lucky that he was loved. Lucky that he still had a roof over his head.

Lucky that he’d escaped the cabin and the fire. Lucky that his only injury was to his hand. Lucky that he could still use it. Lucky that he was alive.

If Noa was ‘lucky’, it was some sort of terrible curse. He hated it. He didn’t want it!

Noa would trade all his ‘luck' for Amber to be alive again.

“Noa…?”

Noa realized that he was staring vacantly at his bandaged hand. He dropped it down to his side and remained silent.

“Noa,” Rion said again. “Are you…? I… I’m sorry. I thought…”

“Don’t be sorry,” Noa said, flexing his fingers. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“But… No. I… I put Amber in the…with the…and I…”

“Don’t!” Noa said.

He didn’t want to hear it. He already knew. He’d seen everything. He didn’t want to make it more real than it already was.

The bathtub.

The blow dryer.

Amber…

He remembered Rion crying on the bathroom floor, curled up, lost. If Noa hadn’t grabbed him, he might have stayed there and burned with the rest of the cabin.

Noa felt like he was going to throw up. Thinking about it made him dizzy.

It was Noa. Everything was his fault. He’d driven Rion to something so horrible. He might as well have done it all himself.

It was him. It was Noa. It was always him.

He turned to Rion who was staring at him with tear filled eyes.

“Noa…”

“I pushed her,” Noa said. He lifted his burned hand. “I pushed her with this.”

Noa remembered Amber’s brief warmth. It was like she was still there, like it happened moments ago. He remembered the pressure, Amber’s weight as he pushed her away. And Amber had kept going, falling backwards.

Noa looked her right in the eye. She stared into him as she fell.

He’d been the last thing she’d ever seen.

He’d never forget.

Never.

“She slipped,” Rion said. “I saw it. Her foot went backwards over the edge. It was an accident. You didn’t mean to.”

Noa knew it was his fault. He didn’t want to argue so he said nothing. Rion squirmed in the silence.

“If…if anyone finds out… Tell them that I did it,” Rion said. “Tell them it was me. I…I can… Don’t worry about me. I’m the one who… If they want to send someone to jail, I’ll go.”

“No one knows.”

“But if they find out…”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

Rion fell silent. Tears were streaking down his face and his lips were quivering.

Neither one of them said anything for a long time. Noa could hear the Murphys moving around downstairs. If he closed his eyes, he could almost pretend that things were normal, that things were okay, that Amber was in the other room, and everything was fine, fine, fine, fine, fine–

Rion let out a strangled gasp. Noa looked up.

Rion was looking into the garbage bin next to his desk. He leaned over, reached in, and pulled out Noa’s friendship bracelet.

“Noa…” Rion gasped out.

“Drop it,” Noa said.

“It’s your…it’s your bracelet…” Rion said, staring at him with wide eyes.

Rion’s bracelet was still tied around his wrist, a perfect match for Noa’s, which dangled from his fingers.

“It’s garbage,” Noa said.

“Amber made it for you,” Rion said, his voice spiking to something high and strained and foreign. “You can’t throw it away.”

“It’s a lie,” Noa said, balling his hands into firsts at his side. His burned hand pricked in pain like he was squeezing a thousand needles in his grip. “It’s a lie. It’s not true. I killed her! I’m…I’m a murderer. I’m just like my father…”

He was evil and bad like his father. It made sense. It was the only thing that made sense. It had to be the reason for everything.

“You’re not!” Rion said. He glanced at the door with wide eyes. “Noa, you’re not. That’s not true. It was an accident. You didn’t… And I was the one who… I…”

“It doesn’t matter,” Noa ground out. “Amber’s dead.”

Rion grimaced, squeezing the bracelet in his grip.  “Then…then, let me keep it for you. You can’t… You can’t throw it away.”

Noa kept his jaw clamped shut.

He hated this. He hated it.

He was getting angrier and angrier and angrier. He didn’t want to talk about it. He didn’t want to think about it. He didn’t want to be here with Rion, talking about the friendship bracelet, thinking about how he killed Amber and how evil, evil, evil he was…

“Please, you can’t throw it away,” Rion said, tears streaming down his face. “Let me keep it for you. You might want it again one day. Amber…s-she made it for you. She… Please, Noa…”

Noa stormed over and ripped the bracelet from Rion’s grip. He whipped around to his desk, searching for his scissors. He knocked over his pencil holder, spilling everything everywhere and somehow, in the mess, he spotted the glint of metal.

He snatched up the scissors and took them to the bracelet in a furry. He snipped twice and when it didn’t cut through the third time he pushed, using the sharpness to shred through knotted threads.

“No!”

Rion knocked into him, grabbing at his hands, trying to rip the friendship bracelet out of his grip. Noa reefed it back, jerking it towards himself. Rion stumbled against him.

“Stop it! Let go!”

“Noa, don’t!”

Noa pulled as hard as he could, trying to rip the bracelet out of Rion’s grip. He reached around with his other hand, the scissors still in his grip, trying to push Rion away with the heel of his palm. The scissors slipped open when he moved–

Rion let out a horrible screech, stumbling back.

Noa stood, scissors in one hand, bracelet in the other. Rion backed away, holding his hand.

He was bleeding.

There was a line of red on the back of Rion’s hand. It spread and spread and spread, blood overflowing. Rion slapped his other hand over it, clenching tight, catching drops of blood before they could fall. He held it close, scrunching his eyes shut, a guttural, painful whine coming from the back of his throat.

The scissors fell from Noa’s grip. The shredded remains of the bracelet dangled off his fingertips.

He cut Rion.

He stabbed Rion.

He hurt Rion. Noa hurt Rion. He stabbed him. He cut him. Rion was bleeding. He was hurt. Noa did that.

It was him. It was him. It was him. It was him.

“A-aahn…iigh… It hurts!” Rion gasped out.

Noa snapped back to reality. He darted to his laundry bin, pulling out a T-shirt and stuffing it into Rion’s hands. Then he bolted over to his nightstand, ripping the drawer open with shaking hands, shoving everything aside until he found the small first aid kit hidden at the bottom.

He forced it open, shaking the contents out on the bed. A giant Band-Aid caught his eye and he snatched it, ripping it open with his teeth before hurrying back to Rion’s side.

Rion had wrapped the shirt around his hand. His breathing was sharp and high. It scared Noa.

What if Rion was hurt really, really bad? What if he needed to go to the hospital?

What if Noa killed Rion just like he killed Amber?

“I got… I got a Band-Aid,” Noa said. He didn’t recognize the sound of his own voice as it wavered and trembled. “I’m sorry. I…I’m so sorry, Rion. I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry.”

Rion didn’t answer. Gritting his teeth, he lifted the shirt.

His hand was stained red. The gash gushed blood as soon as the fabric lifted. Rion covered it up again, whimpering.

The Band-Aid slipped between Noa’s trembling fingers and hit the floor.

He needed something else. He needed… Noa needed to clean up the blood. He had to…

He bent down and grabbed the Band-Aid off the floor. He took several sharp breaths.

“Rion… Close your eyes,” Noa said.

“What?” Rion said, looking at him tearfully. “Wh-why…?”

“We need to…to wash your hand…” Noa said. “It’s… We need to.”

“O-okay…”

Rion closed his eyes and Noa pushed him along, out the door and into the hall. He focused on the bathroom, not looking at Amber’s door. He guided Rion with one hand and gripped the bandage in the other.

He couldn't hear his aunt, uncle, and cousin. Maybe they’d gone outside. Maybe they hadn’t heard…

They couldn’t have heard, otherwise they would have come running to check on them.

Noa urged Rion into the bathroom and turned on the sink. He pulled aside the shirt and stuck Rion’s hands under the stream of cold water. Rion flinched.

“It’s…it’s like a heartbeat…” Rion said. “It’s all…throbbing…”

“I know,” Noa said, swallowing hard.

With the water washing away the blood, the cut didn’t look so bad. It still made Noa queasy. He grabbed a bunch of toilet paper and then pulled Rion’s hand out of the water, patting it down.

It was like an old lost memory. Noa remembered being cut badly as a kid. He remembered how it hurt and pulsed. He remembered his father getting down with him on the bathroom floor, cleaning him up, wiping away his tears, telling him he was strong and brave…

“What are you…?”

“Helping. Stay still,” Noa said as he got Rion to hold the toilet paper on the back of his hand. He peeled off the back of the Band-Aid and readied it. “Move the toilet paper.”

Rion did and Noa slapped the bandage on.

He stepped back and Rion stood there, staring at it. It seemed to work. Noa didn’t see any more blood. It would have to be good enough.

Noa forced himself to look away. The water was still running, drowning out all sounds. Noa reached over and turned the tap off.

“Is that… Is it enough?” Rion asked, staring at the bandage.

“I don’t know,” Noa said.

He took the T-shirt and thought about stuffing it in the garbage. Instead, he turned and headed back for his room. The shirt was black. The blood didn’t show.

“Noa… Noa, wait.”

Noa didn’t wait. He darted quick as he could back into his room and threw the shirt back in the laundry. There was hardly anything else in there, but he was going to have to wash everything tonight. No one could know.

No one could know. No one could know that he was a horrible person who cut up his best friend and killed his cousin.

What was wrong with him?

Why was he so horrible? He didn’t want to be!

Rion followed him back into the room. He was still holding up his hand, the Band-Aid stuck to the back. His eyes were round and his breathing ragged.

“Noa…” Rion said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Get away from me,” Noa said.

“…Wh-what?”

“Get away,” Noa said, forcing a glare. “You need to stay away from me.”

“Noa…” Rion began. “Noa, I’m so sorry…”

“No,” Noa said, shaking his head fiercely. “You need to go. You need to stay away. Go away and don’t come back.”

Fresh tears were filling Rion’s eyes. He worked his mouth and then shook his head.

Noa didn’t want him to go, but he knew he had to send Rion away. He couldn’t be near him. He would hurt him again or kill him or…

It wasn’t safe for Rion.

Noa wasn’t safe for Rion.

“Go away!” Noa said louder. “I don’t want to see you anymore!”

Rion hiccupped, pulling his hand close to his chest. He couldn’t form words. He stood there, crying, staring at Noa with wide eyes.

There was a sound in the silence. It came from the entranceway – the sound of the front door opening.

“Noa!” Aunt Elaine called from downstairs. “We’re getting ready to leave. Are you and Rion ready?”

“Yes,” Noa called back.

He wanted to push past Rion and run down the stairs. But he couldn’t. Rion looked at him and then at the door before looking down.

Rion stared at the shredded bracelet on the floor next to the scissors. Without any warning, he bent down and snatched the bracelet before turning and bolting out the door.

Noa stood there for a moment, alone, and then followed him.

It felt like his life was over. There was a disgusting nameless feeling clawing inside his chest.  Everything hurt.

But for some reason, Noa couldn’t muster a single tear.