“Move.” Veda looks ready to break him in half.
“Let me explain.”
“No.” They’re nearly face-to-face; insolence and anger bleed from her. “You need to do better. No excuses. No bullshit. Antaris is kind and brilliant. He’s so compassionate. You need to protect that. Protecthim.She—” Veda swallows thickly. “She’ll suffocate the good out of him if you don’t. He’ll resent you, or worse, he’llbecomeyou.”
Hiram flinches. As angry as he is, he can’t ignore the pain of her words. “You don’t know fuck all of what I have or have not done. You don’t even know me, much less—fuck it, nowI’mdone talking. You’re fired.”
“You didn’t hire me.” Veda touches her forehead, and tears fill her eyes. “I would have already quit after spending the entire evening consoling him, assuring him that you haven’t left him, that you were coming back, that you weren’t dead somewhere. But you’re stuck with me because, as long as I’m alive, I’m not abandoning him. You weren’t here when he started wondering, worrying, when he started sobbing uncontrollably. I did the hard part, now it’s your turn.”
“Where is he?” Hiram asks tightly.
“In Peter’s office.” Veda pushes past him, storming off toward the dark parking lot. He watches her sit on the edge of the fountain and bury her face in her hands.
Hiram doesn’t spare her another look. His mind is a cacophony of misfiring emotions. Peter’s office doesn’t make him feel any more settled. It’s a mess of uneaten food and looks like a tornado went through it. The man himself looks haggard, straightening books and picking up papers.
Relief blooms at the sight of Hiram. “What happened to you? Veda—”
“Screamed at me and stormed off. I was downtown involving myself in Seer shit I shouldn’t have bothered with had I known all this would have happened.” Hiram’s eyes land on Antaris. He’s curled up on the couch, blanket clutched to his chest, face puffy from crying, distress radiating from him even in his sleep.
“I tried to call you—”
“My phone didn’t turn back on until I left the building.”
“I almost called Simran, but that would have made matters worse.”
Peter’s words fade to the background as Hiram kneels beside his son, flinching at his touch even in his sleep. Veda was right.
“I fucked up.”
Fifteen
Veda wants to sleep, but a parade of colors dances behind her shut eyes.
Eventually, she gives up and ventures outside, where the air carries a chill uncommon for this time of year. Trees rustle in the soft breeze. She has the urge to both walk away and plant roots. But deep down, she knows the issue of her uncertainty stems from something her pride hasn’t allowed her to acknowledge. Old habits don’t die—they hibernate until the next relevant moment.
In the wake of her righteous indignation, the truth whispers that she’s done something wrong. Veda sits with her guilt as daybreak’s brilliant rays bleed streaks of color through the forest. It’s Saturday, so there’s no time to wallow.
Inside, the shower burns her cursed scars; the salve doesn’t soothe as well as usual. After dressing, she sighs at her hair. Too tired to bother with it, she brushes it back into a bun, puts on her shoes, and makes the walk to Weston Academy.
The grounds are empty, save a few employees scattered about to tend to the animals. Veda takes refuge in the greenhouse, counting the buds on the bare cherry tree and pruning what she can reach. Being interrupted is normal, but the person who intrudes is not who she expects.
Khadijah is dressed for a day out in a black romper and flip-flops, gold jewelry, her white braids pulled back into a ponytail. “Peter told me about what happened last night. Do you want to talk about it?”
“No. I said a lot. Some of it I meant, some I didn’t.” Veda’s close to erupting from her own frustration. “I don’t know. I felt helpless. Even when Peter came, I couldn’t help Antaris. I just held him until he fell asleep.”
After gesturing for Veda to follow, Khadijah glares daggers until she complies. They leave the warm greenhouse and step into the sunlight. It’s warm for the long-sleeved shirt and jeans Veda’s wearing, but she’ll survive.
They’re halfway to the school when Khadijah says, “I saw Hiram when he realized how late he was.”
Veda stops mid-step. “What?”
“Ruth got arrested on bullshit charges. Uncle Clinton called me to meet him at the FCD, and when I got there, he said she was in there with her attorney. I didn’t know who it was until Hiram walked out with her. He got her released without charges being filed, and the enforcers even apologized, all thanks to an arrogant attorney who gathered enough evidence to prove her innocence.” Khadijah sighs. “Trust me, Ihatedefending him, but he was late because he was helping right an injustice.”
“He stopped spectating,” Veda mutters to herself.
“What?”
“I told him good men didn’t spectate, and the one time he didn’t—” Veda wrings her hands, still shocked. “I thought I’d made a mistake before, but now ... Now IknowI did, and I’m not sure I can fix it.”
