Read with BonusRead with Bonus

Red Thread

Hands clamp my forearms in the dark. Human, cold, steady. I shove my shoulder into the wall and raise the shears.

“Cass,” a voice says. “Don’t.”

“Name.”

He doesn’t give it. He doesn’t have to. Every scar on his mouth maps to a night I didn’t sleep. My brother. He guides my wrist to the lid wi...