My body doesn’t know what to do. Fight? Run? Fall to my knees?
I walk.
Not far. Just to the next corridor where I can breathe without feeling like I’m stealing air from the past.
The drawing burns behind my eyes.
I sit against the cold wall. Close my fists until the claws bite into my palms.
She never told me.
But she didn’teraseme.
She gave me to her child.
Even if I was only a ghost in crayon and memory.
My chest aches. Not with anger.
______________________________________________________________________________
I don’t sleep.
I lie in my bunk, eyes fixed on the ceiling, feeling like the weight of a collapsed building is pressing down on my chest.
Every breath tastes like betrayal. Not hers. Mine.
Because I didn’t see it.
Because I let them pull me into silence and pain and wires and rage, and Inever came back.
Until now.
And now… there’s a child.
Adaughter.
Ours.
I go through the motions.
Rehab. Pain management. Neural synchronization. Training sim with Kael.
I hit harder than I should. Kael notices.
“You trying to work through something,” he mutters as he blocks a strike, “or break your other shoulder?”
“Shut up,” I snap, too fast.
He raises a brow. “That’s a yes.”
I leave him on the mat and limp to the showers, letting cold water pour down my spine until my legs stop shaking.
None of it works.
Everywhere I look, I see her.
Every sound reminds me of her laugh.
