Panic descends, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.
‘Flint?’ Sheen looks stricken.
‘Can’t … breathe …’
He slides an arm under me and props me up. I’m shaking uncontrollably, fingers bunched in his shirt, knuckles white.There’s a crushing weight pressing on my chest. No matter how hard I try, I can’t seem to catch my breath.
‘Breathe with me,’ Sheen orders, placing one hand on the back of my neck to keep it steady. ‘Like this, see?’ He inhales, long and deep. ‘Now you.’
Rasping, choking sounds escape my lips. ‘I … can’t …’
‘You can,’ he says. ‘It’s going to be all right. It’ll pass. I’ve got you. Just breathe.’
Tears sting my face. I grit my teeth and do as he says. The tightness eases somewhat, loosening with each jagged drag of air.
I begin to count.
His heartbeats.
The scatter of tiny freckles I’ve rarely been close enough to notice.
His eyelashes – every single one.
And when I finish counting, I can finally breathe again.
Sheen doesn’t let go of me and I don’t want him to. My bones feel brittle. My head aches – a dull pounding throb.
His brow is crumpled with concern. ‘How long has this been going on?’
‘Since the third trial,’ I admit, my voice hoarse.
He closes his eyes for a moment. ‘Why didn’t you tell anyone?’
‘How could I?’ I demand, suddenly defensive. ‘How could I admit that FlintFlamebornis terrified of fire?’
Sheen’s face softens. It’s remarkable how different he looks – how unguarded.
‘Only, in the Ridge tunnels …’ I swallow hard. ‘I have no explanation for that explosion, other than it was fuelled bya desperation to save my sister. Except, it felt so … Well, that’s just it. I didn’tfeelanything. It was almost as if …’
‘As if?’ Sheen prompts.
‘As if the fire wasn’t mine at all. Of course – it must’ve been. It’s not like Blaze conjured those flames.’ I let out a shaky laugh, which soon peters out. ‘I … I’ve always been soself-assured. But now I don’t know who I am any more. I don’t even recognize myself.’
A strained silence falls and I instantly regret my words.
Then Sheen says, ‘I’m sorry.’
‘For what?’
‘For what happened to you.’
My throat tightens. Most people assume it’s best never to mention it, as if treating me the same as before could somehow counteract the fact that I am forever changed. I didn’t know how much I needed to hear those words until he said them.
‘Do you want to stand up?’ Sheen asks.
I nod and let him pull me to my feet. The transition is dizzying. I stumble, and he catches me by the shoulders.
‘I’m fine,’ I lie.
