“When I was younger, I didn’t know better. I thought every time he came back, it meant something had changed, and that he was going to stay.”
I felt something tighten in my chest at that, and I wondered where he always went.
“And he never did,” I said.
“No,” he agreed. “Even now.”
The word wasn’t jagged or bitter.
It just… was.
“He’d stay long enough to fix something,” Keegan continued, his voice steady but quieter now. “Or break something. Sometimes both. And then he’d leave again before anyone could ask him to stay.”
“That had to be hard.”
Was he just disappearing before the truth could catch up? And whose truth?
“And you learned not to expect anything different,” I said.
He nodded once. “I learned to stop waiting.”
“Would you expect him to be part of the Priestess’ minions?”
“I couldn’t say.” He broke his gaze from mine and glanced toward the Academy, and my heart ached for him.
“The day the battle with Priestess started in the woods, I met him.”
“You did?” His brows lifted.
“I was with Twobble, and I didn't know who he was.” I glanced around and brought my gaze back. “Twobble explainedwho he was to me. It took Twobble a bit of time to recognize him.”
“I see.”
“It was right before the Priestess and her shadows came.”
“Before you were wounded,” he said gruffly. “Before you were marked by the shadow.”
I nodded. “He made it sound like he knew the Priestess or had connections to her. It wasn’t a threat, but more of a…” I crossed my arms over my chest. “Informational thing or like he could help us.”
His eyes darkened, and he shrugged. “In exchange for something, I imagine.”
The honesty in that sat heavy between us, not uncomfortable, just real.
I stepped a little closer, not thinking about it, just moving into the space where I could feel him more clearly, where the quiet between us didn’t feel so wide.
“But he helped us today,” I said.
“He did.”
“And you still don’t trust it.” I studied him.
Keegan let out a small breath, something almost like a laugh but not quite. “Trust and understanding aren’t the same thing.”
“No,” I agreed.
“They never have been.” He shook his head. “But no, I don’t.”
I nodded. “I don’t either.”
