MELISSA
Damien’s chest heaved as he struggled to catch his breath. His eyes were wild and unfocused as sweat beads formed on his forehead.
I stared at him, uncertain of what to do next. I knew offering help to Damien was pointless; he wouldn’t accept it.
I sighed, battling with what decision to make, when Nicho burst into the house.
“I got my tan—” His voice trailed off as his eyes landed on Damien, whose hands were trembling uncontrollably as he ran them through his disheveled hair.
I saw Nicho’s face change, and at first, I thought he was going to walk away, but I was surprised when my brother moved in his direction.
“Are you fine, man?” Nicho asked.
But Damien gave no reply. His face was a mixture of terror and desperation, his jaw clenched.
Damien's movements were erratic—he pa
