Almost.
“Get out of my sight,” I say with finality. “I can’t talk to you right now.”
I turn my back on her, walking back into the hall. I immediately go back to moving the bodies and freeing up beds. To my relief, the flow finally stops, and no more sick people are brought in. Everyone already there stabilizes, but they’re still touch-and-go.
I collapse into a chair by the doors, wiping my face with a cool, wet rag. My entire body feels weighted down, almost impossible to move. My joints ache with pulsing waves of pain.
“Owen,” Merle’s voice breaks through my exhaustion. “Go home.”
“No,” I protest. “I have to stay—”
“All of us who have been here since morning are going home to rest,” she explains. “There are enough people here now to tend the sick ones, and no more cases have come in for a couple of hours. The last thing this hospital needs is more of us dropping in the aisles.”
Grudgingly, I agree and walk out the front doors with her. I’d like to call the council and scream at them, but I don’t have the energy, so I just turn towards home.
Every slow step brings me closer to confronting Trina, and the idea fills me with dread. My love for her twists in my chest, almost ripping my heart in two as my anger flares at the same time.
I know we have to work through this somehow, but I’m more afraid of magic than I’ve ever been.
I push the back door open and go inside, immediately noticing how quiet and empty the house feels. A hint of anxiety seeps through my pain, and I try to brush it off.
She’s here. Of course, she’s here.
I rush through to the kitchen, but it’s clean and empty, the tulips I bought for her a couple of weeks ago dying slowly in their vase. I look at the drooping flowers, a feeling of loss welling inside me that hurts worse than every other thing I’ve lived through today.
With heavy steps, I go to her room, but the silence in the house is already telling me everything I need to know. When I reach the door, I’m not surprised to find the room empty. Not just of Trina, but all her bags and belongings, too.
Well, she got what she wanted. She finally escaped me.
I wonder where she ran off to? Do I even care?
Once the last question drifts through my mind, a searing pain cuts through my chest, and I crumple against the wall, my legs giving out as I slide to the floor. My chest feels empty, and I can’t even feel my heart beating. All I can feel is heavy, aching loss, as if my ribs are being slowly crushed from the pressure of my heart breaking.
Trina, no… Don’t go.
I struggle with myself one last time, trying to tell myself that she’s a witch, and I should never have trusted her, and this is all for the best. As hard as I try to believe that, images dance through my mind of Trina’s beautiful smile, the sound of her laugh, and the feel of her in my arms.
I have to admit the truth, to myself and to her, even if she’s no longer here to hear it.
“Trina,” I whisper. “Please don’t go. I love you…”
Chapter 22 - Trina
My breath burns in my throat, and the muscles in my legs slowly harden into lead weights as I bolt through the forest. I’ve never run so hard or so far in my life, and if I wasn’t completely panicking, I’d never be able to keep up this pace.
Running has never been my thing. Now I understand why. This sucks.
My backpack shuffles up and down with every step, banging me in the kidneys as it shakes. I try to ignore the pain, but soon my whole body is screaming. I finally wind down to a staggering halt.
Keep going.
I can’t!
My body seizes up, simply refusing to do this much physical exercise after a lifetime of nothing but gentle walks. I try to take a step forward, but my knee buckles and I go down, almost falling straight onto my face.
Wow. I can’t even run away properly. Yay me.
Tears threaten to spill down my cheeks, and my eyes feel warm and tender. I try to draw a deep breath, but my chest is still locked up tight from running, and I can’t get enough air into my lungs for a good sob.
