Months passed.

Brynn had been discharged from the hospital. She had woken up from her coma just before school started again so she began her junior year without her twin.

She did have her sister, Kristina, (they weren't really blood related but the same father raised them) with her but she was a grade below her. And the two of them differed on their positions in school; Kristina was a bit popular and she was the brain-damaged artistic kid.

So it was still rather lonely. And Brynn could only think of Michael. She visited him in the hospital nearly every day after school. And at night, she would have nightmares of when they were shot; hearing the gunshot echo made her wake up.

     She would wake up in a state feeling like she couldn't breathe. She would have to take slow, deep breaths almost like she was remembering how to breathe. Once she calmed, she would merely stay up drawing in her sketchpad until she fell asleep again. But nothing ever removed the heaviness in her chest she felt without Michael.

          Art was the one thing she was good at. It calmed her down as she got lost in the colors and of what she imagined in her mind coming to life. Mostly, she would draw but other times she would paint, too.

   Because of her artistic ability, her art teacher had gotten her into an art show to display pieces of her art. The art show was occurring six months after she woke up and it was now the new year. She was also now seventeen because her birthday was in December.

             Her mother, Carly, was absolutely ecstatic about it and even made invitation cards for it. But Brynn couldn't display the same happiness. She felt a bit lost without her other half.

             Despite her lack of optimism, she put on a show of smiles. She simply carried on. And her task to carry on with was giving an invitation card to her father as she informed him of the event.

          "Henry, you can wait here," she told her guard that had been assigned to her since she woke up from her coma.

           "Of course," he replied as he took his post beside the car while she walked up the walkway filled with other guards like Max and Milo who had been around for so long.

         "It's nice to see you, Brynn," Max said as he opened the front door for her and she gave him a small smile as she walked through.

But she did not find her father. Instead she found Claudia Zacchara (who was responsible for the shooting that ended up putting her and Michael in a coma although she didn't know that; not yet), her stepmother, and Johnny Zacchara, the younger brother of Claudia and, also, she guessed he would be labeled her uncle by law. It was odd to think about because she never even talked to him nor Claudia.

"Dad," she called out before she entered the living room to find the two of them paused in conversation. "Oh, sorry if I was interrupting..."

"No. Not at all," Claudia smiled as she waved the thought away. "If you're looking for your Dad, he's not here right now."

"Oh," she sighed before she pulled out the crumpled invitation in her jacket packet. "Well, could you give him this?"

           "Of course," Claudia took it with a polite smile as she looked at it. "An art show?"

           Brynn reached up to scratch at the scar peeking out of her hair on the side of her head. The scar she got from being shot. It was nervous habit to pick at it.

           "Yes. My mom is really excited hence these," she gestured to the card as she rolled her eyes.

           Claudia chuckled, "She's just proud of you."

            "I know," she sighed before she looked at Claudia carefully. "I didn't bring more but you two can come, too."

           "We'd be delighted," Claudia said. "Right, John?"

           "You any good?" Johnny finally spoke up from his spot slightly behind his sister.

           Brynn hadn't really looked at him until now. He had been silent while he analyzed her. He noticed she was a bit shy as she avoided eye contact but it was the scar that drew his attention. She would forever have a reminder of something his sister caused. That poor girl.

           "Well, that's subjective to the viewer," Brynn replied as she didn't shy away from his dark brown-eyed gaze.

          Johnny couldn't help but smile at her witty reply, "I suppose I'll have to be one then."

           "I guess you will," she smiled a bit, too.

           "Well, Brynn, I'll certainly pass this along to your father," Claudia interrupted them.

            Brynn nodded as she started leave, "Thanks."

          Once she was gone, Claudia whacked Johnny upside the head. He rubbed the spot on his head as he called out, "Ow! What the hell was that for?"

"You don't flirt with a teenager, John."

"I wasn't flirting," he defended with an amused smile; he nearly chuckled at the absurdity.

"Uh huh."

_____

At the art show, Brynn had to arrive earlier to get all the pieces set up in her assigned booth. Once she did, it started and people came around looking at all the art on display; there were other artists besides her but she was just the youngest.

Her family was coming at a specific time later in the evening. Brynn had gone to get a bottle of water and when she came back, she found someone viewing her art.

Johnny.

"I didn't expect you to actually come," she said as she stepped up beside him.

She truthfully didn't. Because he was young and in his early twenties, she didn't expect him to appreciate art. And she knew she wasn't important in his life at all. So she didn't consider this to be something on his to do list.

"You got me curious," his lips quirked before he turned his head to look at her a bit in awe. "And you are good. Extraordinarily so, actually."

She smiled, "I know."

"And you just let me believe you didn't know," Johnny said in amusement.

          "Bragging is bad, Johnny."

        "Coming from someone who was never able to learn that, I think this warrants some bragging," Johnny suggested as he stared at a red and black abstract painting she did. To him, it looked like a black hill with red flames atop it.

         She chuckled a bit before she replied, "Maybe I'll try it one day."

And as they silently looked at the art pieces, her chest didn't feel so heavy. Honestly, Johnny was the first person who didn't treat her like a wounded soul. For once, she could breathe without thinking of her twin.