“No, I came to feel.”
Rowan’s body relaxed as he pulled me even tighter into his arms.
“You’re not alone,” Rowan murmured into my hair. “I promise.”
He guided me gently to the small couch in the corner. We sat in silence for a long time, his arms wrapped around me as I buried myself in the warm safety of his chest.
After a while, my tears slowed. My breath evened out. I stared at the wall across the room, hollow and raw.
“When I lost my father,” I began, my voice low, “I was so angry. The kind of anger that consumes you and turns you into a stranger.”
I looked up at Rowan and saw that he was watching me, patiently waiting for me to continue. He looked as though he were absorbing my words.
“He took his own life, and I couldn’t understand it—couldn’t forgive it. I was just a child, and I didn’t know how to properly grieve for him.”
Rowan didn’t speak. He just held me tighter, letting me unravel.
“My brother had just been taken from us, too—my best friend. It didn’t feel fair for him to give up so easily while my mother and I were also going through the same thing. It felt selfish, and I hated him for it—for leaving us and forcing me to grow up faster than I should have. I shouldn’t have had to take care of my mother, but I did.”
My shoulders tensed momentarily before I forced them to relax.
“But now…” My voice wavered. “Now I understand. There’s only so much a person can take before something breaks inside them. Something irreparable. It all becomes too much to bear. So, I get it now. That weight. That kind of grief.”
His hand shifted, his thumb brushing slow, soothing circles into my spine.
“Do you feel that way?” he asked quietly.
I paused, considering my answer. The air felt impossibly still.
“I’ve thought about it before,” I admitted. “In passing. When everything feels too heavy and suffocating. But I don’t think I could go through with it. Death will come for me like it comes for everyone. I know I’ll meet Anam at the end of my days—but I’m in no rush to greet him.”
Rowan pressed a gentle kiss to the top of my head. “We’ll make sure that day doesn’t come too soon.”
He couldn’t make that promise. My odds of survival were slim. I knew it, and he knew it. I already felt a stirring of something beneath my skin. But there was no point in arguing about it, so I said nothing. There was nothing to say.
I closed my eyes and let myself sink into the comfort of his presence. I never thought that the day would come when I was grateful for a Veiler. But I was.
He made me feel like maybe I didn’t have to face this darkness alone after all.
Chapter 48
“The faithful endure much.
But not all suffering is sanctified.
Some is simply because of the cruelty of flesh.”
- The Old Book
It had been a week without Talia.
The room felt bleaker now, like the warmth had drained away and taken all the air with it. Her side of the room was barren—only the stripped mattress remained. No blanket. No pillow.
No Talia.
Just an empty bed where a girl used to sleep. A girl who hummed softly as she fell asleep, painted delicate yellow flowers, and offered gentle smiles and acceptance to everyone she met.
They’d removed all her belongings. There were no more clay figurines on top of the dressers and the bathroom sink. The space was plain and lifeless once more.
