“That’s your deep, personal truth?”
“It’s a start.” He shrugged.
I grinned, shaking my head. “Pomegranates are worse.”
“Blasphemy,” he whispered, mock offended.
“They’re bitter and hard to eat. Nothing about them is worth the effort.”
“I respectfully disagree.”
I nudged him. “Respectfully?”
He leaned in and nuzzled against my neck, and I let out a startled giggle—an honest-to-gods giggle.
“I like it when you laugh. You don’t do it nearly enough.”
“I haven’t had a lot of reasons to laugh in my life.”
“Maybe we can fix that.”
His voice carried an unspoken weight. I knew what he meant: survival. Hope. The future.
But it hurt—because I didn’t believe in any of those things anymore. Not for me. Not here.
Still, I didn’t want to steal the light from this moment. So I smiled and leaned into his touch, resting my forehead against his.
He didn’t need to know that I had lost hope of ever seeing the sunrise or smelling the scent of rainfall again.
For now, a moment of laughter was enough.
Chapter 47
“The veil is not death, but the hush that comes before it.
A breath unspoken, a thread unspooled.
Mourn not the crossing—
for even the gods must pass through it to be born again.”
- The Old Book
The Facility - Month 5
The air was unusually still that morning, heavy in a way I couldn’t name. I swung my legs over the edge of the bed, stretching stiffly as the cold floor greeted my bare feet. Across the room, Talia remained curled under her blanket.
I padded softly over to her bed and knelt.
“Talia,” I whispered, nudging her shoulder gently. “Come on, let’s go get breakfast.”
She needed to eat, and if I didn’t wake her to go do so, then she wouldn’t. Talia no longer made crafts, smiled, or even spoke. Her body was a hollow shell—her mind absent. She had stopped taking care of herself entirely—she hardly even got out of bed to shower.
I tried again to shake her, firmer this time.
“Talia. You need to eat,” I said firmer.
She still didn’t stir. My stomach twisted. I leaned in closer, my pulse erratic. Her skin was pale–too pale. I reached out, my fingers pressing gently against the side of her neck.
