Glass Hearts [BL] Chapter 13: The Empress of Snacks and Justice

"You doing okay?" he asked eventually.

I hesitated. "Not really. But I’m still breathing, so that’s sothing."

He shoved his hands in his hoodie pocket. "How’s your mom?"

"She’s stable. Still under observation," I said quietly. "Thanks for asking."

He nodded. "That’s good."

I wasn’t sure why he was being so... decent.

Dominic looked like he wanted to say sothing else. He glanced around, then back at . "I know this is random, but... when you have ti, I’d like to talk. There’s sothing I want to ask."

"What about?" I asked, cautious.

He paused. "It’s better if I explain it in person. Not here. Not now."

I nodded anyway.

"Alright."

He scratched the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable. It was the first ti I’d ever heard him sound like that.

"It’s fine," I said quietly, though it wasn’t.

"How’s he doing?" I asked after a mont.

He looked up, sighing. "The doctors said he slipped into a coma. Fractured a few bones... hit his head pretty bad."

"Damn."

"Yeah. They said there’s a chance he might not even rember . Or his own na. Or the whole night."

My stomach twisted. "That’s... pretty bad."

Dominic nodded slowly. "If you want to see him later, I can take you."

I hesitated. "Thanks. I’d appreciate it."

He gave a small smile.

It wasn’t cold. Wasn’t arrogant. But that didn’t erase everything he’d done. The humiliation. The bullying. The way his friends laughed while I fell apart.

And still...he hadn’t even said a real apology. Not really.

He turned to walk toward his car. "Anyway... I should get going."

I nodded. "Yeah."

He glanced back once but didn’t say anything. I watched him drive off, that sa tightness returning to my chest.

For a second, I wondered if things were finally changing. But no matter what... I had to keep my distance. That world? His world? It was poison. And I wasn’t getting sucked into it again.

Not now. Not ever.

Few Hours Later

I don’t even rember falling asleep. One second I was sitting on the hallway bench,

staring at the ceiling, thinking about how to keep my family alive, and the next, I felt a tiny, cold finger poking my face.

"Ashhhhhhhh."

I blinked, groggy, and saw a tiny arm pulling at my hoodie. Then a small, pouty face ca with ssy hair big eyes.

"Wake up, you traitor," she said, frowning.

I blinked, trying to shake off the exhaustion. "Alia?"

"Yeah, it’s . Your adorable, emotionally neglected little sister," she said, crossing her arms.

She stood right in front of , barefoot, dressed in that oversized pink unicorn hoodie she always refused to take off.

"You said you’d be back by twelve!" she huffed, hands on her hips now. "You’re, like... ten hours late!"

"I know, baby girl, I’m sorry," I said, sitting up.

"No. Nope. Not accepted." She pointed a finger dramatically. "I waited. June held hostage. You didn’t co back. I thought you got kidnapped by aliens. Or worse...you turned into a grown-up who breaks promises. You ghosted . GHOSTED."

I couldn’t help it. I laughed.

I was exhausted, aching, emotionally drained and I still laughed. She always had that effect on .

"I had to sleep in a bed by myself! Do you know how boring that is? June told a scary bedti story."

I laughed softly. "I’m sorry, okay? It won’t happen again."

"Pfft. You should be sorry," she grumbled, crossing her arms. "But I forgive you because you’re my big brother and I need you to carry all the heavy stuff." She said tossing her tangled hair back like a diva.

"You better have a good excuse or a puppy. Or a pony."

"Wow," I muttered. "I’m touched."

She squinted at , still suspicious, then pulled sothing from behind her bag.

It was a sketchbook one of the cheap spiral-bound ones she always carried around. The cover had stickers, glitter smudges, and what I think was a drawing of a rabbit doing a backflip. She opened to the last page and bead.

"I made this last night while I was waiting. See? It’s you. And Mommy. And . But I gave you abs like that guy from the cartoon we watched....’cause you looked sad lately and I thought muscles would cheer you up."

She held it up proudly as I laughed.

I can’t believe I needed abs to be happy.

The drawing was... a masterpiece of chaos. My cartoon self had the body of a Marvel superhero and hair that looked suspiciously like a fried onion and my giant triangle nose.

Mom with stick arms holding a frying pan like a weapon with a crown. And right in the center...Alia, wearing a giant pink crown and standing on top of a dragon labeled "Howork."

"You like it?" she asked, her eyes wide with pride.

I burst out laughing.

"Alia," I wheezed. "Why am I holding a sword?"

"Because you’re my knight. Duh," she said. "Also, Mom said she’s the queen-slash-chef, and I’m the Empress of Snacks and Justice. It’s a democracy, Ash. Obviously. Keep up."

"Pretty sure that’s a monarchy, but okay."

"You stepped on howork." I laughed pointed at the sketchbook.

"Obviously. That’s what true heroes do."

I couldn’t stop laughing.