Page 21 of Wraithwound

“Yes, fine,” she replied quickly.

“You just look a little pale,” Lena said, setting her bowl down. Jessa sighed and shook her head as if contemplating what she should say.

“I’m sick,” Jessa said, the words quiet, hard.

Lena’s heart stuttered.

“What do you mean sick?” Lena asked. But she knew. It was how she’d known she was the only living person in the funeral field. Jessa wasn’t just sick. She was dying.

Jessa laughed bitterly. “I found out about a year ago. The healers say it’s likely my organs are failing, but they’re not sure why. Nothing they’ve tried has helped.”

“Jessa, I—” Lena started, but Jessa held up a hand.

“No. Don’t act like you care now. Plus, we haven’t given up hope. That’s why Mom is collaborating with Orvain and his healers. The Commander has restricted access to some of the super rare herbs that might be able to help me. Things even Corvin and Aric haven’t been able to find. By sharing her knowledge— the organization’s collective knowledge with Orvain—Mom gains access.”

Shame burned brightly on Lena’s face as she realized she’d never stopped to consider how things might have changed for the woman she once considered her best friend, what her absence might have meant to Jessa as she faced a terminal illness. While Lena drowned in her own grief, she hadn’t stopped to consider the grief she’d caused them.

“I’m so sorry. I’m sure a solution will turn up,” was all she could think to say.

“Maybe it already has,” she said, averting her gaze.

Lena hoped with her whole heart that Jessa was right.

“You’re meeting with the healer’s organization tonight, right?” Jessa asked, changing the subject.

“Ahgrie told me we’ll be heading out after dark.”

“I, more than anybody, understand the desire to live. But you shouldn’t have come here. Not with that,” Jessa said pointing at Lena’s shoulder. “I think it’s best if you leave before sunrise.”

Lena stilled. She’d planned to do just that; she didn’t want to risk staying any longer, but hearing Jessa say it so plainly twisted her stomach in a knot. The truth of Jessa’s statement wormed its way into her gut, confirming what she already knew to be true about herself, what she had so blatantly demonstrated with her ability to withdraw from their lives so easily. Lena was selfish, only concerned with her own pain.

“Don’t use the main route out of the city. Go through the Metalworker’s District and use the northern gate. The guards there are younger, less experienced. They won’t question you when you go. Most trades use that exit,” Jessa said.

The grid-like city had multiple exits to account for the possibility of an attack with most being positioned by the wealthier districts. It had been grouped this way after the Commander took over, ensuring those with valuable skills had access to more exits and those who did not had fewer.

“Thank you,” Lena said.

“Oh, and try to let Mom sleep in the morning. She’s been exhausted lately.”

“Of course,” Lena said, barely able to speak past the emotion that clogged her throat.

Jessa made her way to the bottom of the stairs. “Don’t forget. The northern gate. Goodbye, Lena.”

Jessa did not look back.

Chapter

Seventeen

Lena stood in the guest room not long after Jessa retired for the night. A cool breeze gently ruffled the curtains near the bed, and Lena breathed deeply, trying not to let the anticipation of the night’s events unsettle her. She focused instead on redressing her wounds and rearranged her supplies for the third time in preparation for tomorrow’s departure.

Lena couldn’t help but think about all that had come to pass between her and Jessa. She knew coming here would be difficult but hadn’t realized just how much pain her withdrawal had caused those she loved. It had been so easy to shut everyone out after her mother’s disappearance, an echo of what she’d done after her grandfather had been murdered.

It wasn’t often she allowed herself to think about him. Losing him had broken something inside of her. With time and the help of her family, those wounds had healed, or so she’d thought. But after her mother disappeared, she split open all over again, the pain somehow deeper this time. All consuming.

And after, it had only been Henry who kept her tethered. His warm smile and bright eyes, his dry humor and general sense of ease soothed her. He knew exactly when to push and when to give her space, eventually taking over the duties she could no longer fulfill. Or more accurately, gave up on.

She couldn’t blame Jessa for keeping her distance. Lena had abandoned her at a time when she’d needed her support, her friendship, the most. Her throat tightened as she imagined what it must have been like for Jessa to learn of her illness. To watch her body deteriorate slowly and to do it alone, abandoned by her closest friend.