Her throat worked as she looked at me, and I could see the walls trying to rebuild themselves—brick by brick.
I didn’t let them.
“You think we haven’t been watching you tear yourself apart for years?” I asked, keeping my voice low, careful. “Jay. Rhett. Me. You’ve carried so much alone, Wren. You never had to.”
She didn’t answer.
Didn’t deny it, either.
Jay didn’t speak. He stood, quietly collecting the empty food container, moving to give us space without being obvious about it. But his eyes met mine for a second—something silent and sharp passed between us.
He nodded once and stepped away.
I turned my focus back to her.
“You don’t have to know how to do this,” I told her. “You’ve spent a decade surviving. I don’t expect you to switch that off just because you’re finally safe.”
Her brows knit together like she didn’t know whether to argue or cry—or maybe both.
“Is that what this is?” she asked hoarsely. “Safe?”
“Yes.”
She shook her head, just a little. “It doesn’t feel like it.”
“Because your body’s at war with you. You’re too close to the fire to feel anything else.”
“And when I’m not?”
I hesitated, but only for a second.
“Then we’ll talk. All of it. Suppressants. Secrets. What this means. You won’t have to guess.”
Her breathing hitched.
I reached up and gently tucked a piece of damp hair behind her ear—careful not to touch skin. She let me. Her eyes didn’t leave mine.
“Wren,” I said, quieter now. “You didn’t fail us. You protected yourself the only way you knew how. I wish you hadn’t needed to. But I don’t blame you for surviving.”
Her eyes shimmered—not with tears, not quite. But close.
“You should be angry with me.”
I was.
But not for the reasons she thought.
“I will be,” I said, honest. “Later. When you’re not burning up. When you can stand and argue with me. But not now. Not when you’re hurting.”
That seemed to break something in her—not a collapse, but a release. Her shoulders slumped, some of the tension bleeding out of her limbs. The fight in her quieted. Not gone, but resting.
Finally, she closed her eyes again.
“I don’t know what to do with you,” she murmured.
“You don’t have to,” I said. “I’m not going anywhere.”
None of us were. Not for anything.
