Elijah POV
When Rosalia and I were children, she would often pick fights with the other kids. Jerome, also a friend of mine, would inform me that she was- and I would be expected to step in. And I tried- really, truly, I tried.
“You can’t keep doing this, Rosie,” I would tell her. She’d come to hate that nickname, couldn’t stand the sound of it. Perhaps it was because I so often used it when telling her no. “If you keep this up you won’t have any friends left.”
“I don’t need friends,” she would reply, as sure as the wind would blow. “I only need you.”
And sure- that was a red flag- the glaring kind that didn’t fade, that wasn’t easy to ignore. But I was only a child and having someone say that to you- a girl, no less- it was powerful.
I evened my breathing. Rosalia had been loaded in
