She just had to confront her most painful wound. This time, I didn’t experience anything even though I kept my eyes open. I don’t know what she saw, but I can imagine. I know firsthand how difficult it was to walk through that door. So I tell her what I would’ve wanted to hear. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”
Edith chokes on a sob. “A-Amund.”
She can barely speak as a lifetime of pent-up pain pours out.
Her grief is a storm, her tears torrential.
I hold her through it all.
We weather it together.
Once she’s ready, I escort Edith back to her dorm.
She opens the door. Pauses. “You know, you can come in if you want.”
I hesitate in the hall, remembering when I first brought her here the night of Emilía’s murder. “Sure.”
I step inside, following her through the suite.
Tala is sitting on the sofa watching television with a bowl of popcorn. She jumps up as soon as she sees us, clutching a pillow to her chest and sending popcorn scattering over the floor. “Holy shit, you scared me,” she says. “Guess this is what I get for watching horror movies alone.”
Edith plasters on a smile. “Sorry.”
Tala glances between me and Edith. “Everything okay?”
Edith nods. “Yeah. Come on, Amund.”
Tala starts scooping up popcorn, but she’s eying us as Edith leads me through the common room.
Seeing Edith’s bedroom feels strangely intimate. It looks like she hasn’t fully made herself at home, like she could leave at any moment. But there are still traces of Edith everywhere. Various pictures of her and Bea taped to her wall. Books strewn across her desk. Pink satin sheets on her bed.
“Sorry it’s a mess,” Edith says.
“It’s not,” I say quickly, still looking around.
She frowns, unconvinced, and takes a seat on the bed.
“So I take it you two are going to the Unity Dance together?” Tala calls out from the living room, sounding like she’s still picking up her popcorn.
Edith’s eyes widen. “Oh. No, we aren’t.” Then more quietly she adds, “I… I already said yes to someone else.”
She must mean my brother.
I feel a stab of guilt mixed with longing. Even if I care for Edith, howcould she ever love a hunter? After what happened between her parents, it would be impossible. I’m the last person she could love.
She fidgets, hesitant to meet my eyes.
I’m not mad at her. Sheshouldbe with someone like Nils. He is gentle and kind. Everything I’m not, and can never be, because my father beat it out of me long ago.
Maybe I never stood a chance.
“I thought we could go as friends,” she says quietly.
Friends. Somehow, I don’t know that my brother thinks of Edith as only a friend. How could anyone? My chest aches at the thought, but I force myself to say, “Right. Of course.”
Edith worries her lower lip between her teeth. “Sorry, I—”
“I should probably go,” I tell her. “It’s late.”
