My eyes drop as she unfurls something in her hands, examining it before she sets it on the ground in front of her.
It’s nothing special. Just a small pebble from the forest, smooth and almost glassy. I saw it and thought she’d like it, even though we’re not supposed to give her anything not on that fucking list.
She took the little gift from the tray. Took it, and unwrapped it.
And she’s… keeping it.
I can’t remember the last time I smiled, I realize. But my cheeks almost ache with it. “Call him. Call everyone.”
She’s still there.
Day 190 – Oscar
“Shedoesn’ttrustyou.”A book slams down on the desk. “That has to be it.”
At Abram’s words, my head lifts. “Tell me something Idon’tknow. She doesn’t trust anyone, Doc. She’s…,”
I can’t finish the sentence. He knows well enough what our mate is.
He settles back in his seat, the familiar gleam in his eyes making me sit up straighter. “Just listen. I think this is the key, Oscar.”
Slowly, I place my own stack of papers down. We’ve been working through old medical papers, case studies, anything we can find that even mentions omega physiology. Trying to find something that might help us break through to Kenny, to draw her out.
Although I’m well aware that Abrams is trying to distract me, too. “I’m listening.”
He purses his lips. “You’re aware of how I met Kennedy?”
I stiffen. I can’t help it. “In the hospital, right? After.”
When she was broken and hurting and alone, and thought we hated her.
“You know her father didn’t arrive for more than twenty-four hours after we contacted him?” Abrams’s mouth presses down in clear disapproval. “He stayed for less than fifteen minutes before he left.”
Son of a fuckingbitch. “Yeah, that sounds like Rick.”
“Her only parent.” Abrams sighs. “She’s never been able to rely on anyone, from what I can infer. An incredibly unstable childhood, followed by a sustained, horrific assault. And as an omega she needs that sense of security, Oscar. She needs to know she has someone who cares. And Kennedy – whilst being undeniably the strongest omega I’ve ever met – had no one. It would be enough to traumatise anyone. But in her case, I believe it’s affected her actual physiology. If I’m right… she is, in effect, hiding within her own mind. She doesn’t feel safe to come out. The feral aspect is almost a protective barrier.”
Frowning, I think through his words, even as the bottom hollows out of my stomach. “But the bites, the attack, that’s what caused her to change – to turn feral.”
“They did.” Abrams pulls out another pile of papers from the tottering stack next to us. “But her latest stats show that she’s otherwise healthy. She’s not showing the degradation we would normally associate with feral omegas. Kennedy’s notdying, Oscar. Not anymore.”
If I wasn’t standing, I think I’d fall.
“Show me,” I demand hoarsely.
He hands over the paperwork, not saying anything as I flick through it. I’ve seen enough versions of Kennedy’s charts, her bloodwork, her hormone levels, to describe them blindfolded with a gun to my head.
The papers fall from my hands. “She’s healthy?”
“Perfectly so. Which begs the question – why is she still presenting as a feral, when every sign here says that she shouldn’t be? Her heart rate is slightly elevated, but far closer to normal than it was. If I saw this chart without a patient attached, I’d say she was a healthy, albeit anxious, omega.”
I can’t speak.
She’s healthy. Not dying.
We’re not going to lose her. Not like that. Not again.
“Oscar,” Abrams says gently. “I truly think you can bring her back.”
