Fisilti - Becca Fitzpatrick May 2026

I didn't know him. But my soul did.

I'd trace the ghost of a wing on my shoulder blade, feel the phantom press of lips on my forehead, and my heart would race—not with fear, but with a grief so ancient it felt like a second skeleton. My mother watched me with careful eyes. My best friend, Vee, filled the silence with chatter, hoping to drown out the questions I couldn't voice. Fisilti - Becca Fitzpatrick

And when his cold fingers brushed mine, the whisper grew louder. Not in my ears—in my blood. A name. A promise. A silence finally breaking. I didn't know him