"I can't."
"Yes, you can. You're doing it right now. Just keep going."
I breathed. In through my nose. Out through my mouth. The air was warm and smelled like whiskey and something else—something clean, something that reminded me of Matt's jacket, the one he'd draped over me when I'd fallen asleep on the couch.
"That's it."
His voice was soft.
"Just keep breathing."
I didn't know how long we sat there.
Minutes. Hours. Time had stopped meaning anything. The floor was cold. The bar was dark. The only light came from the streetlamp outside, casting long shadows across the wood.
Matt didn't leave.
He stayed beside me, his hand on my shoulder, his presence steady and warm. He didn't ask questions. He didn't push for answers. He just stayed.
"I killed her."
The words came out before I could stop them.
"Rue. The woman who said Gabriel was dead. I killed her, and I don't remember doing it."
"Do you remember why?"
"She said he never loved me. She said he was planning to sell me. She said he left because his brother's people were closing in, not because he cared about me."
"Do you believe her?"
"I don't know. I can't remember. I can't remember anything."
"Then don't try. Not tonight. Tonight, just rest."
"I can't rest. Every time I close my eyes, I see her face. Sasha. Rue. The girl who wasn't there. They're all the same. They're all me."
"They're not you."
"How do you know?"
"Because you're here. You're alive. You're still fighting. That's not nothing."
He stood up and helped me to my feet. My legs were shaking. My hands were shaking. Everything was shaking, and I couldn't make it stop.
"Come on. Let's get you to the couch."
"I don't want to be alone."
"You're not alone. I'm right here."
He led me to the back room, and I sat on the couch, and he draped his jacket over my shoulders. The fabric was warm. It smelled like him—coffee and something else, something I couldn't name.
"Sleep."
"I can't."
"Try."
