“I’m sorry I hurt you.”
I sigh.
“It’s okay. I’m sorry I was an ass about it.”
Mafu chuckles.
“All is forgiven, dude.”
“But why the trailer homes? Why not stay with your family if that’s why you left?”
Mafu groans, repositioning himself.
“You had to ruin the moment, didn’t you?”
“I’m infamous for that . . .”
His smirk is playful, and he relaxes his eyebrows.
“Well . . . we disagreed one night—about what, I can’t remember. I accused them of being cowards, screaming at them that we should’ve never left home. We haven’t exactly been on the best of terms since,” he tells me.
“Oh. Sorry.”
“We’ll get there eventually.”
He helps me to my feet, and he and I exit the restroom together (which totally looks like we were caught in the act). Ambrosia greets us with a solemn nod, letting us know there aren’t any updates on Ezra’s and Conin’s conditions. My heart won’t slow, no matter how hard I will it to. My thumbs excessively circle in tireless intervals.
Our estranged trio sits in the lobby, waiting for scraps of good news to reach our ears.
“Atlas, is that you?” sounds a voice from above where I’m hunched over. The voice is, at first, unrecognizable, until I peer up to match the sound with a face. Several years have passed, but I’d know her anywhere.
“Delilah,” I say, standing to greet her. “How are you?”
“I’m good . . . safe, because of you and your grandpa. I’m sorry about his passing. Augurys was one of a kind,” she says.
“That he was. Thank you, though. I’m happy to see you doing so well.”
As much as I’m delighted to see an Angelic abu and I successfully housed to safety, these interactions grow too cumbersome. My energy depletes and the strength in my legs gives way. Mafu leverages me to the bench, where I attempt to hide my embarrassment. Delilah grins fondly at me. There isn’t a hint of judgment on her face.
“Your friends are going to make it out of this, okay? I’ll do everything in my power to ensure they do,” she says confidently.
Abu was adamant about getting her to Proctus in one piece, whatever it took, however high the risk, because of her healing abilities. Being around Delilah and the Angelics, symbols of his legacy, makes these shoes feel impossible to fill. I’m hanging on by a loose thread—emotions over the precipice of no control.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
Delilah places a tentative hand on my shoulder before disappearing around the bend. Ambrosia, Mafu, and I sit like we’re in solitary confinement, waiting until the ceiling inevitably falls on us, silencing my voice along with those I’m afraid to lose.
You offer your heart on a silver platter,pa had told me.
I didn’t realize it’d been plucked from my chest.
Chapter 60
Atlas
Neither one of them wakes up.
That’s the worst part.
