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Her sibling’s sigh was greeted with one of her own. It hadn't dawned on her that perhaps Sankor did not deserve the kind of attitude she was so recklessly throwing in his face. Or maybe he did. After all, he’d left both of his sisters without much an explanation; no reason to justify his actions. It would’ve been much easier for Alexey to cope with the temporary loss of her brother if she’d at least known why he’d left in the first place. She wasn’t like Adelaida. It was hard for her to welcome him back with open arms. She loved him, of course. But the unconditional love they shared often wasn’t enough to suppress how neglected she’d felt over an extensive period of almost twelve months.
He was right though, she was still his sister. Part of her wanted to confide in him, but misplaced pride stopped her from doing so. No, she wouldn’t cry on his shoulder like she’d done in the past. She wasn’t a child anymore and this was a problem that Sankor just couldn’t fix, even if he wanted to. There wasn’t a single second when Emwe and Conor weren’t on her mind. They haunted her. And it was clear to her that she wouldn’t be able to get a good night’s sleep without knowing that they were safe and sound. Thanks to insomnia and anxiety, Alexey was a complete wreck.
Her beige-colored ears drooped when the male voiced an apology. The sincerity and regret behind his words sent shivers up her spine. “Sankor, I’m scared,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.