Iryana rubbed her sister’s arm while they lay there, trying to come to terms with it all, until Hadima’s breaths were slow again.
“And I’ve always said‘no’too much,” Iryana offered quietly.
Hadima offered a sad smile. “But you’ve always tried to help anyway, even though you kept saying you didn’t want to be part of the family. Don’t think we never noticed.”
“It’s just,” Iryana whispered. “I don’t know how to act around the family, around you. I can feel everyone’s eyes watching and waiting for me to mess up.”
“You push us away because you’re afraid. Not because there’s anything wrong with you.”
“But there is though, isn’t there?” Iryana asked quietly. “I spent so long alone with Dad, always waiting for the next moment he’d get mad at me. It didn’t even matter what I did, if I really didanythingwrong. It was justme. Something wrong withme.”
“Iryana.” Her voice was pained. “Our father wassick. Addicted to the awful poppy and angry at the world. Nothing you did would have mattered. He would have screamed and yelled at you, no matter what.”
There was a bit of logic to Hadima’s words, but her heart struggled to accept them. To believe them.
“But.” Her voice wavered. “When I came back, everyone was so uncomfortable around me. And it felt like every little thing I did was wrong. What I said, how I trained… everything. And then with Marisha…”
“That wasn’t your fault,” Hadima said firmly. “I know you think we blamed you, but we didn’t. We were grieving and upset, and I am so sorry if we didn’t make it clear that it wasn’t your fault then.”
Hadima gripped her arm tightly, looking so intently into her eyes. “Marisha’s death wasn’t your fault.”
Her sister sighed. “And Iryana, everyone wasn’t uncomfortable around you because there’s something wrong with you. It was so obvious you were hurting. Your eyes were so hollow, you didn’t smile. You would jump anytime anyone got too loud or excited. And I don’t think any of us knew how to handle it. How to help. And I know I blamed myself for leaving you alone like that; I’m sure the others did too.”
Iryana tried to imagine what the others might have seen back then. How it might have looked from their perspective. She could almost see it.
“That was our failing,” Hadima urged. “Not yours. And I shouldn’t have pushed you so hard.”
Iryana turned her face into Hadima’s arm.
“I’ve missed you,” she said, voice muffled.
“Me too.” Hadima tucked her head against Iryana’s. “I’ve missed you so much.”
Iryana let those words sink in. Focused on the feeling of being in her sister’s arms, of feeling her sister’s love. Gods how she had missed it.
Then Iryana leaned back, reclaiming a bit of distance.
“I knew having you try to kill Karvek was a mistake,” she admitted. Needing all her truths out in the open now. “I knew I was the one who needed to do it.” Iryana let out a slow breath. “I was just… I thought if you messed up, the family wouldn’t care. That they’d forgive you for everything. And I was just so tired of letting everyone down.”
“It’s okay,” Hadima shushed. “I understand that fear. Iryana… I know I shouldn’t have volunteered to kill Karvek but—” Hadima sighed. “I just wanted tofinally protect you. To take care of you like I should have before. I wanted to prove to you I could do it. It was stupid.”
She wrapped her arms around her sister again.
“No, it wasn’t. I mean, yeah, maybe. But the reason wasn’t stupid.”
She’d missed Hadima taking care of her, looking out for her.
Hadima squeezed her back. “I was scared for you—but I knew you could do it. I’m sorry I made you doubt yourself.” She sniffled. “The Kleesolds are capable of a lot, but we need you. We’vealwaysneeded you. We’ve been trying and failing to fill the hole in our family that’s meant for you.”
Her mind was spinning, struggling to absorb what her sister was saying.
How could all the pain and regret inside her exist in a world where her sister loved her? A world where Hadima didn’t blame her for any of it and instead blamed herself.
She’d made so many decisions because of fear. Because of pain. Had gotten so used to being at fault for everything and nothing. Had let a sick, hurting man change the way she saw herself. The way she saw her family, made herself blind to their love.
And she’d pushed them away. Over and over. But they hadn’t even given up on her, had they? Not like she thought. Her grandmother tried to get her to come back, hadn’t once let her go entirely. They had all been right there the entire time. Waiting for her. Suddenly, those years of loneliness seemed so long, so pointless. An affront to everything that she had grown up believing.
Something Pyetar had said came to her, and she whispered, “I can’t keep fighting by myself.”
