LILA'S POV
The rancid, heavy smell of cheap alcohol continued to spread through the house, suffocating the warmth we had spent the last two days building.
David stumbled further into the living room, kicking off his muddy work boots carelessly. One of them hit the base of the wooden bookshelf with a dull thud, leaving a dark, wet streak against the polished white paint. He wiped his nose with the back of his sleeve, swaying slightly as he tried to anchor his weight.
He looked nothing like the brother I remembered.
As I stared at his hollow cheeks, his bloodshot eyes, and the aggressive posture he carried, my mind flashed back to a completely different lifetime. I remembered the brother who used to carry me on his shoulders through the crowded summer fairs so I could see the fireworks.
