The door slams behind him. He feels like ripping his hair out. Maybe he will. It’s been needing a trim recently anyways. He kicks at the railing, grimaces when he misses, then winces when he doesn’t. His toes will be bruised in the morning. Not like it’s the first time.

  “Brother? Is that you?” Wilder calls. Great. Now he’ll have to deal with the kid.

  “Yeah,” Bee calls. “I’m tired, so I’m gonna get some shut eye.”

  Wilder appears in the opening to the family room. “Oh, hello! You disappeared for a long time, I was beginning to get worried. How are you?”

  “Fine,” Bee nearly growls. Why can’t his brother just let him be?

  A young woman appears behind Wilder. She’s nearly as tall as Wilder is, which is a feat in and of itself. She has shoulder length wavy hair with bangs. Ah. Bee’s seen her at the library, working, and the bakery, gabbing with friends. She’s wearing an outfit that Wilder would most likely deem “stylish.” She’s looking him over as well, examining him. She won’t see much.

  “Ah, Iris! What a fortuitous encounter! Bee, this is Iris, Iris, this is Bee—”

  “Hello, darling,” Iris greets. “It’s nice to meet you, I’ve heard a lot about you.” Her voice is flirtatious and flattering and Bee’s already heard enough to know that one: Wilder’s head over heels for her and two: he doesn't have the energy to deal with this right now.

  “That’s great. I’m gonna have to ask you to leave now, Wilder and I have some chatting to do.”

  Iris scoffs. “Well, if you insist. It was nice to meet you, Bee.” She passes him. Bee hears the front door close behind him.

  Wilder is angry, of course. “Brother, that was very rude of you! Iris is very kind and—”

  “Yeah, I’m sure.” Bee grumbles. “I’ll be in my room.”

  “I thought you wished to speak with me.”

  “Nope.” Bee turns to head up the stairs.

  “Bee?”

  Bee pauses. Fuck, he can hear it in his brother’s voice. He turns back. Wilder at the bottom of the staircase, fiddling with the hem of his shirt, eyes downcast.

  “She’s gone.” Bee says tensely. Then: “Stars, she’s gone.”

  “I’m sorry,” Wilder says, and then he’s crying, and then Bee’s crying, and they’re holding each other and sinking to the kitchen floor. Bee hiccups, as he always does when he cries, which is stupid, because who hiccups when they cry—but Wilder pats his back and he knows he’s not alone.

  “Why did we have to let her go? Why couldn’t we tell her?” Bee laments, resentful sobs wracking his body.

  “Mino deserves the best chance she can get,” Wilder says. Though his breathing is calm, tears drip steadily from his face.

  “But wasn’t her best chance with us? We took care of her, we loved her, why isn’t that enough? Do you even care?”

  “Of course I care!” Wilder says indignantly. “I love Mino. She’s like the little sister I never had. Which is why I want her to find the people she belongs with.”

  “Why doesn’t she belong with us?” He’s supposed to be the older brother and damn it, here he is sobbing into his little bro’s shoulder. He can’t take this.

  “Five years, Bee. Five years and no sign of magic. She’s just a normal human that happened to fall down the wrong rabbit hole.” Wilder’s hands are trembling.

  “You don’t know that she doesn’t have magic,” Bee sniffs, wiping his face. “That flower that appeared—”

  “Meant nothing,” Wilder insists, but he looks uncomfortable. Bee knows he’s so close to getting his brother to understand. If he could just—

  Wilder continues. “She doesn’t have magic, and she’s in a better place now. Besides—”

  Bee viciously punches the ground, feeling the house shake and everything bounce in the cupboards as a wave of his magic pulses through the earth. Wilder pauses.

  Bee is spiraling. His throat burns, tight enough to snap. He shouldn’t have let it get this far. He shouldn’t have let his magic loose. He grabs his emotions, rips them from his body. His brother deserves better.

  Bee sighs, running a hand through his hair. “We’re both too emotional right now.”

  “I’m sorry,” Wilder says after a moment. His voice is small, and Bee hates it.

  Bee plops down and stares up at the ceiling. His brother, still sitting, watches him.

  “I followed her,” Bee admits quietly. “I wasn’t ready to say goodbye. I know she’s capable, I just, I needed to know she was safe. She found some friends, she was okay. She looked happy, most of the time. She always does.”

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  Wilder nods, settling in. His eyes shine.

  “But there were times when I saw she was upset. She’s confused about so many things. She doesn’t remember anything, and we just sent her away?

  “She always refused to talk about the Overground. She made it seem like she didn’t care, like it just wasn’t worth talking about, but one of those kids she was with… that kid was from the Overground too. That kid… she was real messed up, Wilder. What if we sent her somewhere worse?”

  For a moment, Wilder stares with a distant look in his eye. Hesitantly, he speaks.

  “Truthfully, I… I wonder whether we made the right choice. It hurts me to think that letting her go was wrong, and I pushed for it.”

  *****

  “One second, please, I think I smell food burning in the kitchen. Come on, Bee,” Wilder drags his brother out of the room, away from Mino. Mino, who is awake. Mino, who is okay. What is he doing?

  “Where’s the fire?” Bee asks. It was an excuse to get them out of the room, but Bee hopes joking about it can relieve some of Wilder’s tension. “Mino’s okay, Wilder. Sure, she’s got amnesia, but—”

  “Bee,” Wilder says. Bee has never heard his brother’s voice like this before.

  Wilder doesn’t move, barely even breathes for a moment. Then, his eyes flick up to meet Bee’s, hard and burning. What the fuck is going on?

  “Bee, we can’t tell Mino that we know her.” What the fuck is going on.

  “Wilder. What is going on?”

  “She doesn’t remember us, we’re strangers to her. Two strange men when she wakes up all alone, knowing nothing.”

  “But if we just tell her—”

  “You think she’ll believe us? Mino is smart, Bee. Our relationship grew naturally the first time. She will be suspicious if we simply tell her what happened. We are not related, we don’t know her family. She has no reason to trust us.”

  Bee is shaken. “We, we could convince her, she loves us—”

  “She doesn’t know us. She doesn’t love us.”

  She doesn’t love us.

  She doesn’t love Bee.

  *****

  Bee sits up. “Why did you do it? I know what you said before. Tell me the truth.”

  Wilder stares at the ground.

  “I’ve made so many mistakes, brother,” he says. “You’ve always been the one who takes care of me. When we took Mino in, and you started working more, I thought I could take care of her. But… well, you remember.”

  Bee does remember those early days. Wilder barely even knew how to cook without burning the house down. Bee was stressed and split between three jobs. It was all he could do to barter with the neighbors to help keep an eye on Mino. Wilder was constantly nervous, fidgety and unconfident. Bee hated seeing his brother like that, but he didn’t have the time or energy to figure out another way to do it. They both managed the best they could, taking care of the sweetheart that hung the stars in their sky.

  Wilder continued. “Things changed, through the years. Things got better, even. But somehow, I never… I couldn’t find it in myself to believe that I would keep her safe.”

  Bee feels like he’s been stabbed through the heart. He should have done more, he should have known what Wilder was going through. He’s observant, damn it, as much as he hates himself Bee knows he’s smart. His vision goes blurry through the tears.

  “You’re perfect,” Bee says. He pulls his brother close. “You did more for her than I ever could.”

  “She loved you more though,” Wilder gasps, crying into Bee’s shoulder.

  “Liar,” Bee says.

  “I never should have done that,” Wilder cries. “I never should have lied to her. I didn’t want to lie to her.”

  Bee cries, and soothes his brother, and cries.

  *****

  Some time later, they’ve both settled on the family room couch, quiet and hollow.

  Stars, Bee does not want to have this conversation.

  He eyes his brother, looks back out the window.

  “Iris,” he says.

  “Oh,” Wilder says immediately. “I-Iris.”

  “Mmhm.”

  “Iris is… a dear friend of mine—”

  “You like her.”

  “I… I really like her, Bee.”

  Bee sighs and closes his eyes. The words burn on the inside of his eyelids. I really like her, Bee. I really like her, Bee. I really like her, Bee.

  “I’ve seen her around,” Bee admits. He knows most of the people in Finlow, at this point. Gotta make sure it’s a safe place, and all. Plus he doesn’t mind the company. You hear a lot of interesting stories, getting to know the people around you.

  “What do you think of her?”

  “Reserving judgement.”

  “Brother,” Wilder complains.

  Silence, for a time.

  He doesn’t need to ask why Wilder likes her. He’s heard plenty about his little bro’s crushes and tastes growing up. He’s always dreamed of a whirlwind romance, falling head over heels, running off on a pretty white horse to get married like all the old tales. Iris is a confident girl, straightforward, friendly, and charming. If she flirted with Wilder first, of course he’d be a goner.

  She’s also self-absorbed, gossipy, and too ambitious for her own good. If she hurts him, she’s dead.

  “Invite her for lunch sometime,” Bee says. Wilder looks at him, eyes shining. Gratitude, awe, love. None are things that Bee deserves.

  “Yeah, yeah,” he sighs, unable to keep a small smile from slipping out when Wilder looks at him like that. Bee stands, runs a hand through his hair.

  “I need sleep. Gonna be upstairs, ‘kay? Come get me if you need me.”

  “Likewise, brother,” Wilder says.

  When Bee gets to his room, he sits on his bed and stares at the wall.