I woke up the next morning covered in sweat. I thought the nightmares were finally gone, clearly I was wrong. It had been months since I had nightmares. And once they started, they just wouldn't stop.

Feeling down on the thought of having to spend the next few nights sleepless, I took a shower. It had his desired effect for I felt a lot better.

It was early. I went to the terrace to enjoy the sunrise. I read in books, it was an enchanting sight. But the reality was disappointing, I found nothing special in the scenery except for the orange sky illuminating everything around.

The terrace was beautiful. There was an indoor garden. It seemed like it was regularly taken care of. Maybe Eveline? She seemed like a person to take gardening as a hobby. The fragrance was refreshing and that alone made my mood ten times better.

As I was strolling, I stumbled upon Noah. He was doing pushups. His work out definitely payed off, I could see the bulging muscles beneath his t-shirt.

He must have been here for a long time. His body was already drenched in sweat and the almost empty water bottle said so.

Why was he up so early?

I tried to not make a sound while walking and successfully passed by him without his notice.

I didn't want to be in the receiving end of his glare this early in the morning.

It took me a little over twenty minutes to stroll the whole terrace.

It could easily become my favourite place in the whole mansion. I saw a swing, big enough for three people to sit, in the left side of the terrace. There were multiple pillows and a blanket placed there, letting me know it was often used.

I found a book hidden beneath the blanket. It was a children's book. 'Alice in Wonderland.' The worn out pages told me it was old. I opened it and was shocked to find a hand written note on the first page.

'Happy 4th birthday to Lili.

From Kai.'

Lili was my nickname in childhood.

Doesn't that mean this book is mine? I wonder who would still keep it. Well, it won't be wrong of me to take back what's mine.

... ... ...

I soon got my answer when Kai opened the kitchen door with a bang, looking absolutely furious.

We were all having breakfast. Except Stephen and Ezra who were busy with the final preparations of father's funeral.

I was buttering the toast when Kai barged in, grabbed Noah by the collar of his shirt and demanded, "Where is it?"

Noah tried to pry off his hands from his collar but failed, "What are you talking about?"

"Tell me while I'm still being nice." Kai growled, getting angry by each passing second.

I had zoned out from their conversation until I heard his next words, "You are the only one who goes to the terrace in the morning."

Was he asking about the book I picked up this morning? But it was mine, not his.

"I don't fucking know what it is you want, you sicko. Why don't you ask your dear Aylin about it, I saw her sneaking around that swing of yours." Noah snapped, finally freeing himself from Kai's hold.

I wasn't sneaking around!

Kai's eyes snapped to mine,"Did you take it?"

"Uh-the book?" I asked, confused. Why was he making such a big deal of it?

"Give.it.back," Kai said slowly, enunciating each word.

I didn't want to. It was mine to begin with. "But it's mine." I argued in a small voice.

"No, it's not. I bought it." Kai clenched his jaw, trying his best not to lose his temper again.

"Yeah, to gift me." You can't just take back gifts. I won't give it back. It was the only gift I had. I already lost the charm bracelet.

"Aylin!" Kai's thunderous roar had me running to my room. I took the book I had placed in my bed and quickly rushed to the kitchen. I saw Kai still standing in the same spot, I had left him, clenching and unclenching his fists.

"H-h-here," I stuttered, giving him the book.

Kai furiously snatched it from my hand, "Don't touch my stuff next time."

"He always goes berserk if you touch his little book," Eveline commented, pouring juice in her glass.

"Why?" I asked, curious. It was just a children's book. It had more visual representation in it than words.

"I don't know." Eveline shrugged."Ezra told us not to bother him. Reading it apparently 'calms him down'. Ezra's words, not mine."

I wonder why.

Noah abruptly stood up and left the kitchen, not even bothering to put his dishes in the dishwasher. Eveline groaned before picking it up and putting it in the dishwasher.

"What happened to his face?" I asked. He was sporting a purple swollen eye. His cheeks were bruised as well. Noah hadn't looked at me once during the entirety of breakfast. I didn't dare ask who beat him up, in front of him.

"Don't know," Eveline shrugged from her place, concern flashing in her eyes.

I didn't pry after that.

... ... ...

Should I go?

Should I not go?

I couldn't come to a decision whether or not I should attend my father's funeral. Just last night, I was sure I didn't want to go. But after my talk with Eveline, I am not so sure anymore.

Eveline and my relationship wasn't fixed by any means. We were just on talking terms. We never had a close relationship to begin with.

But for some reason, I couldn't bring myself to make her sad. And I knew she would be exactly that if I didn't show up.

But was it worth it? To relive the nightmares just so she wouldn't burst into tears?

'I'm sure it wouldn't be that bad.' A croaked out voice echoed in my head.

The voices were getting worse than usual. They were getting more frequent. I knew it's not normal to hear them, but its not like I can help it.

Besides, they didn't necessarily harm me except giving me migraines and insomnia. I could deal with that much.

Sometimes I couldn't differentiate between my own thoughts and the voices. They would merge together, ringing inside my head for hours at end.

I could ask for professional help, but knowing my brothers, they would just declare me insane and lock me in a mental hospital this time.

Some secrets were meant to be taken to the grave.

And I had quite a few.

I decided to go look for a Tylenol or something for the growing headache. Where do they keep the medicines?

I didn't find the medicine but I did find Noah. He was trying to put an antiseptic cream on his wounds. But before it could touch his face, he would groan in pain and move it away.

"It won't hurt, it won't hurt," He chanted lowly while trying for the upteenth time.

Of course, he failed.

The situation felt way too familiar for me to ignore.

Taking a seat beside him, I offered softly, "Give it to me, I can apply it for you."

Looking at my face, he contemplated his options. Keep trying and fail or take help from me. He chose the latter, passing the antiseptic cream to me.

I took it, glad he didn't make it hard for me. I wasn't intending on leaving him alone until he complied.

"How did you get hurt?" I asked, taking out a small portion of the ointment before slowly applying it to his wounded cheek.

"Ah-it burns," Noah flinched before I even touched him. Who would have thought Noah to be such a baby.

"Stephen punched me," He replied. Noah was surprisingly docile throughout the whole process except letting out occasional grunts of pain.

Stephen did?

"How could he? It must hurt a lot," I sympathized. Now that I got a closer look, it looked a lot worse. I didn't think Stephen would punch his younger brother so brutally.

"I deserved it," Noah stated in a low voice, looking down.

"No one deserves to be hurt." I said with absolute certainty. Well, there were surely a few exceptions but Noah wasn't one of them.

"What I said last night-I shouldn't have. You need to know I didn't mean them. I-I was angry. And you know I can't control myself when I get angry. I am in therapy for it. Its already been a year but it just doesn't seem to get any better." Noah ran his hands through his hair, frustrated.

Noah's gaze kept on altering between the floor and the band-aid plastered on my forehead.

Was this what it's all about? Stephen punched him over such a small matter? It's not like I was a stranger to those words.

"You weren't exactly wrong." I said, finally done with applying ointment to all his bruises.

"Of course, I was wrong! You're not a murderer, Aylin." He said, desperation clear in his voice, trying to make me believe it as if his very life depended on it.

If only he knew how wrong he was.