“Well,” he said. “That tracks.”
Jessica blinked. “What does?”
Binky tilted his head.
“Only Edith,” he said, “would tell a room full of people to stop screaming because of her headache.”
“True,” Jessica admitted quietly, a tiny chuckle escaping. Only, she didn’t leave, she decide that she would wait for Edith to come around.
“Go on, we will be okay,” she stated, and moved to sit back on the bed by Edith’s still form.
Binky nodded once, satisfied, before slipping out and pulling the door mostly closed behind him.
10
Edith did not wantto open her eyes, and there were several very good reasons for why.
One: her head felt like someone had taken a hammer to it and then politely apologised by doing it again.
Two: her body still didn’t feel like it belonged to her. Everything was too long, too stretched, toohuman.
And three…
Jessica was in the room, and Jessica was not going to let this go.
“If you start shouting again,” Edith muttered weakly, eyes still firmly shut, “I will simply pass out a second time out of spite.”
Nothing… no shouting, no huffing not even a sigh. Edith cracked one eye open.
Jessica was sitting on the edge of the bed, arms folded, her expression tight. Not angry like Edith had expected. Well, not exactly, it was something far worse… hurt.
Edith winced. “Hi,” she started but stopped when Jessica didn’t smile.
“Explain,” she fired back. “Everything… explain it all.”
Right, No avoiding it then. Edith pushed herself up slowly, immediately regretting the decision as the room tilted slightly.
“Still dizzy,” she muttered.
“Take your time,” Jessica said. It wasn’t gentle, but it wasn’t cold either.
Edith clutched the blanket tighter around herself, pulling it close like armour. Her hair fell forward, purple, bright, and everywhere. There was no hiding behind that now. Not that there ever really had been a chance to hide behind her hair.
“I didn’t mean for you to find out like this,” she said quietly.
Jessica’s jaw tightened and Edith swallowed… hard.
“I was going to tell you,” she added quickly.
Jessica raised an eyebrow. “Were you?”
Edith hesitated and coughed. “Eventually.”
Jessica let out a breath, shaking her head slightly. “Edith,” she said, softer now, but the hurt was still there, threaded through every word, “I’m not even… I’m not even mad that you’re… this.” She gestured vaguely at her. “At any of this.”
Edith blinked. “You’re not?”
“No,” Jessica said firmly. “What Iamupset about is that you thought you had to hide it from me.”
