She handed me a pen. I could feel Iggy’s gaze on the side of my head as I followed her instructions. I dotted thei’s. Crossed thet’s. Signed my name more times than felt necessary.
And then it was done.
I was free to re-enter the real world.
A world without scheduled therapy sessions or carefully structured days. A world where thousands of eyes would be on me instead of a few dozen. Where people watched in awe instead of concern. A world without the shelter of old stone walls, strict routines, or a built-in safety net.
A world without Iggy in it.
When I signed my name for the final time, I handed the pen back to Amanda.
“Okay, Bodhi, you’re all set!” she chirped. “Your lift is outside and waiting, so all the best to you.”
“Thank you.”
I gave Iggy one last look, but he was staring down at his lap, picking at the chipped polish on his nails. His shoulders were drawn in, like he was making himself smaller. Like if he didn’t look up, this moment might pass him by.
So I said nothing.
I turned and started towards the front doors.
“Bodhi, wait!”
A body collided with my back, making me grunt as I stumbled forward a step. Arms wrapped around my waist, tight and sudden, and the familiar scent of peaches and cream washed over me. The nerves that had been winding tighter with every step towards the exit loosened all at once, and before I could stop myself, I leaned back into him.
When I turned around, Iggy was looking up at me.
His eyes were glossy, his smile thin and trembling, like it was the only thing holding him together. Over his shoulder, Amanda had her head buried in paperwork, posture rigid, very deliberately not paying attention.
“Bodhi,” Iggy said, voice unsteady. “I, um—” He cleared histhroat. “Thank you. For being there for me while we were here. For being my friend.”
He took my hand in both of his, holding it between us like it was something fragile. Something important. I felt him slip something into my palm, and when he let go, I opened my hand like a flower.
A small, beaded bracelet rested there. One just like the many that decorated his wrists every day. Black and white beads, with a single pink one positioned to sit over my pulse point. Threaded between them were lettered beads spelling out two words:stay sober.
“You deserve a life that makes you happy.”
His words lodged painfully in my chest.
I smiled, even as my throat tightened, and closed my fingers around his gift. The beads clicked softly, the sound unbearably loud in the space between us. Then I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around him.
He hugged me back immediately, like he’d been waiting for it. Hoping for one last embrace.
I held him for a heartbeat longer than necessary, memorising the shape of him, the warmth, the way he felt against me. Because I knew this was all I’d be allowed to take with me when I left.
“Go out there and live,” I murmured into his hair, the words meant only for him. “Reallylive, Iggy Pop.”
He nodded against my shoulder.
Then I let him go.
I turned away, pushed through the double doors, and stepped back into the real world, carrying more of this place with me than I ever expected to.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-THREE
BODHI
