She wilts. “In case I turn back.”
“That’s bullshit.” Jake crosses his arms. “She’s not turning back. Even Abrams agrees. The data doesn’t support it.”
“That was a big part of our argument, but they’re not moving.” I failed her. Again. “You don’t have to do this, Ken.”
Rumbled agreement sounds from all of us. Theo shifts, his body angled toward her. I can see the refusal written across every part of his face. He hasn’t left this room in days. Never more than a few feet from her, even as they dance around each other like uncomfortable acquaintances.
Max’s arms settle on her shoulders, rubbing them as she swipes a hand down her face. “But it’s the only way they’ll agree to let me out? I can’t leave unless I pass this damn test?”
I nod. “But we’ll be watching. Right on the other side of the glass.”
She glances toward the mirror. Her torn expression bounces back to us. “I don’t want to be in here anymore.”
And she shouldn’t be. She can’theal here. This isn’t a place for recovery. It’s a place for coping. For the bare minimum.
It’s so easy to step forward. To drop my forehead until I can just about rest it against hers. Her breathing warms my face. “Remember what I said?”
“I can do this,” she whispers after a moment. “This is nothing.”
After everything she’s been through. “Not nothing. But you can do this, Ken. And we’ll be right there, even if we’re not in the same room. Only a few feet.”
She takes a breath. “Okay. I’m ready to – to leave. So I’ll do it.”
Theo shakes his head when I step away. But he says nothing, fixing his eyes on the floor.
“Another few days,” I say to her. “And you’re coming home, Ken.”
And maybe I can start to rebuild this pack, with Kenny at our heart. To focus on living, instead of barely surviving.
Kenny
Sittingawkwardlyonthebed, buried in a navy-blue hoodie that smells like fresh laundry and a pair of comfortable leggings, I wait.
My eyes shift back to the glass.
They’re out there. I know they’re out there. Abrams is there too.
But my heart still beats unsteadily. Sweat prickles against my hairline, even though it’s never quite warm enough in this stupid room.
I’m getting out. I repeat the words to myself, trying to manifest it. I’m going home.
Wherever that is. I picture it in my head. Jake’s kitchen. The hallway. The living room. The stairs, building a picture in my head.
Although my mind skitters away from the nest. Sighing, I run my hands down my thighs.
They have to let me out.
They can’t keep me here. Not when I’m… healthy.
My fingers slip into my mouth, brushing against the sharp edges. Still there. Maybe all my edges are sharper now.
I take a long breath, trying to soothe myself. My fingers brush against Max’s hoodie, my fingers twisting into the worn material. He put it on me himself, peeling it off and nudging me into it while it was still warm from his body heat.
It feels a little like cheating, but I took it anyway. It makes me feel a little less alone as I wait for whatever is in store for me.
Ridiculous, Ken. You shouldn’t be so reliant on them.
Maybe the Center is right, to test me like this. They can’t always be with me. Although even the thought of that has me flinching from empty air.
