River just grunts, shovelling a frankly alarming amount of pancake into his mouth. “Has she come out of her room today?”
The question is casual, but I can hear the worry behind it.
“No,” I answer. “So, I’m taking her breakfast up. Make sure she eats. Gets changed. At least get her to see some daylight.”
He winces. “Good luck with that. You know how stubborn she is.”
That I do. Too well.
“Just… be careful with her. I’m worried she's going to get to the point where there's no turning back. Her love for everything has gone. She doesn't dance anymore, and you know how much she loves to.”
I walk over and clamp my hand on his shoulder, proud of how big his heart is for his sister, for everyone. The only reason I know so much is from the stories he's told.
“Don't worry too much; let me handle it. I’ll see you tonight, and don't die at training.” I ruffle his hair as he pushes me off with a laugh.
Taking the plate and her coconut latte, I head upstairs to her room.
The house feels heavier the higher I go, quieter in a way that presses in on my chest. I stop outside her door and wait, giving myself a moment to see if I can hear anything inside.
Then I hear it.
A sound that shouldn't come from someone so young. Soft, broken, dragged straight from the lungs. She's crying and all alone.
She shouldn't be alone. Not after everything—especially not after losing her father. Rose doesn't care, and she never has, no matter how much I force the issue. But I do. Always have and always will, even if she doesn't believe it.
I tap the door lightly with my foot. The sobs stop instantly, but there's nothing else, just silence. I try again.
Nothing.
“Willow,” I call out softly. “I know you're in there.”
A meow, followed by a quiet, muffled voice. “No, I’m not.”
I shake my head, a small, rueful grin tugging at my lips. Stubborn woman.
“Open the door,” I press gently. “Please.”
“No.”
Well, I was expecting that. Most people would just give up, but I’m a stubborn ass.
“I have coffee and pancakes.”
“I’m not hungry.” Her voice is closer now, just on the other side of the door.
I huff, trying to hide my frustration behind a thin layer of control. “I didn't want to do this, but if you don't open this door soon, I will knock it down.”
“You wouldn't."
“Oh, I would, princess. I don't just cook for anyone.”
Truth is, I hate cooking, but I am pretty damn good at it.
There's no movement, no creak of the hinges, and I’m seconds away from downing this coconut shit myself.
“One.”
“Just go away.”
