It took three days for them to finally let me out of the hospital.
Between the awful glare of the white lights, trying not to think about Jaime and Mom, and spending every second Mari wasn’t with me panicking about if she was all right, it felt like I was going to explode any minute.
Walsh couldn’t find out anything about the investigation, neither could Alec.
When they called Alec back to the barracks, the panic and constant mind-itch of not knowing what was going on outside my room got bad enough I would have gladly drunk Harper’s nasty wine to dull my worry. But since she never came to visit, I didn’t have a chance to beg her for any.
Things didn’t get better when Miranda showed up to fuss over whether or not I was actually ready to leave.
I sat on my bed, still stuck in my hospital gown, listening to the doctor and Miranda bickering in the hall. I knew I should be grateful to have someone who cared enough to harass the doctor about my health, but I wanted to break out of the hospital so badly I would have chewed my leg off like an animal stuck in a trap if I’d thought it would give me a shot at breaking free.
“It doesn’t matter if it’s unpleasant. It’s your job.” Miranda’s words carried through the door. “Someone’s got to tell her.”
“Tell me what?” I called.
The voices in the hall fell silent.
I watched the door, waiting to see which of them would be brave enough to come into the room first.
Miranda popped her head in. “Are you all right, Lanni?”
“I guess that depends on what neither of you wants to tell me,” I said.
“It’s nothing,” Miranda said in a voice that was too chipper, even for her. “The doctors have done an excellent job fixing all the damage from the fire.”
“Then can someone give me pants so I can leave?” I asked.
“Sure.” Miranda ducked back into the hall for a moment before finally stepping all the way into my room. “Clothes are on their way.”
“Look, whatever it is, can you just tell me?” I stood up, tensing the muscles in my neck to make sure I didn’t wince at the ache that shot up my legs. “I’m not glass. I won’t break.”
“Of course not,” Miranda said. “You are such a brave girl, and it just seems a pity the doctors couldn’t help you more.”
“You just said I’m fine.”
“You are.” Miranda bustled across the room and untied the string at the end of my braid. “But unfortunately, burn treatments can’t regrow hair.”
“What’s wrong with my hair?” I shook my braid out for the first time since I’d been in the hospital. It felt strange. Too light in my hands.
“Quite a bit of your hair was burned.” Miranda steered me toward the computer screen in the wall. “The doctor suggests leaving it long and just wearing it back all the time, but I didn’t think it was fair to send you home and have you realize the extent of the damage when you tried to shower.”
She tapped the screen, turning it into a mirror.
The ends of my hair had been singed. Swatches had been burned entirely away. The patchy layers reached all the way up above my shoulders.
“Honestly, if you hadn’t been so quick-thinking and wet your hair before going into that house, there would be a lot more damage.” Miranda met my gaze in the computer screen. “And it will grow back.”
“It doesn’t matter.” I ran my fingers through my hair. Strands crumpled and fell to the ground. “It’s just hair. Does the doctor have scissors?”
“I brought some.” Miranda pulled a pair from her pocket.
“You came prepared to chop off my hair?”
“I just didn’t want you to go through this alone.” Miranda rolled a chair over from the corner. “I know you’re older, so I really don’t have as much work to do with you as I do with Mari, but big changes after a trauma can be hard. I know you’re strong, you’ve had to be, but I didn’t like the idea of you taking scissors to your own hair.”
“I wouldn’t have.” I sat down. “I’d have let Mari do it. She’d think it was fun.”
“I used to cut my daughter’s hair all the time.” Miranda tipped my chin up and adjusted my shoulders. “This should turn out better than trusting a seven-year-old. How short?”
“Whatever you think is best.”
“All right.”
I shut my eyes, ignoring the feeling of the scissors touching the back of my neck. I tried to think of something to say so the sound of my hair being chopped wouldn’t seem so loud.
“How old is your daughter?” I never would have asked a question like that in the city. Too many people died young. Unless you could see somebody’s kid with your own eyes, it was better not to mention they’d ever existed.
“She’s twenty-two now and about to make me a grandmother.”
“Congratulations.”
Miranda brushed my hair off my shoulders. “Thank you. I’m excited to have a tiny one to take care of again. I hate having an empty house. That’s why I volunteered to be a guardian for you and Mari.”
“Will you stay Mari’s guardian, once you have a grandbaby to tend to?” I gripped the sides of the chair as the scissors came around to cut just under my chin.
“Of course. I wouldn’t abandon Mari or you. You girls have been through so much. The last thing I’d want is to cause you any more heartache.”
“Thanks.”
I fell silent as she worked her way around to the other side of my head.
The weight of my hair falling away made me feel exposed―naked in a way I hadn’t known was possible.
“There are still a few places where you can see it was burned.” Miranda brushed off my shoulders for the fourth time. “But once it grows in a bit, we’ll give it a fresh cut.”
“I’m sure it’s great.”
Miranda tapped the computer again, pulling the mirror function back up.
It’s just hair. It doesn’t matter.
I stood up and stepped in front of the screen. The girl the computer showed me looked nothing like the girl I’d been my whole life.
Even after the burns and days spent stuck in the hospital, I had better color in my cheeks than I’d ever had back home. My face had filled out, too, softening the once-familiar angles. There were no bags under my eyes. And my hair barely went past my chin.
I reached up and touched the ends.
“You don’t like it?” Miranda said. “We could always go for something a little edgier like your friend Harper.”
“It’s not that. It’s just…my mom always insisted I keep my hair long. My whole life. And now it’s just…gone.” Tears burned in my eyes.
“I’m so sorry, Lanni.” Miranda hugged me. Like an actual, maternal hug.
I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d hugged Mom. I’d been so mad at her toward the end.
“She may have liked your hair long,” Miranda said, “but I think she would have loved the courageous young woman you showed yourself to be. She would be so proud of you, no matter how short your hair.”
“Thanks.” I eased away from Miranda. I didn’t manage to wipe away my tears before she saw them.
“I’ll run out and check on your clothes, and then we’ll get you home.”
“It’s still the school day.”
“You don’t have to go.” Miranda hesitated by the door. “You should head home and rest.”
“I’ve spent days staring at the ceiling in here. The last thing I want is to go home and stare at the ceiling there.”
“If you’re sure.” Miranda gave me an understanding smile, like she knew I couldn’t face the threat of having more time to think, and disappeared into the hall.
I tried to listen to what she was saying to the doctor, or guard, or whoever else was lurking outside my room, but all I could hear was the low rumbling of their voices.
I ran my fingers through my hair and brushed more of the cuttings off my neck.
“It’s not a big deal.” I tucked my hair behind my ears. The ends tickled my chin. “It doesn’t matter at all.”
Saying it out loud didn’t make it feel any more convincing.
She wanted it long so I could fit in with the kep. Mission accomplished. Let it go.
I waited for Jaime’s voice to reply, but the hidden corners of my mind couldn’t come up with anything comforting for him to say.
But I could still picture him trying to hide his smile as he shook his head at me, judging me for worrying about something so small when there were life or death matters I actually needed to focus on.
“Thanks, Jaime.”
Miranda brought me a whole new set of clothes, complete with brand new boots. As I tied the still-stiff laces, I couldn’t help wondering if Mr. Lewis’s calculations had accounted for boots being ruined by house fires.
I begged my way out of Miranda walking me to class, but the doctor insisted on having one of my two door guards follow me.
I waited until we got a few corridors away before speaking to the man keeping three feet behind my shoulder. “I know how to get to class. You really don’t need to walk me.”
“I have orders, miss.” The guard stayed in step right behind me.
“Are you going to wait outside my class to walk me home?” I asked.
“My orders haven’t gone that far yet.”
“Are you following me because there might be a murderer who wants to kill me?”
“I’m just following orders, miss.”
“Great.” I resisted the urge to sprint to class just to be rid of my guard faster. I felt decent for having almost died, but I didn’t want to push too hard and end up on another gurney.
I slowed down even more when we neared my classroom.
“Could you do me a favor and stop following me before my classmates can see you?” I asked. “I don’t want to sound ungrateful, but the last thing I need is people paying extra attention to me because a guard walked me to class.”
“I’ll stop at the stairwell,” the guard said.
“Thanks.” I ran my hands around my neck one more time, getting rid of as much of the stray hair as I could, before walking up the steps and into class.
I kept my chin tucked as I headed toward my desk, like I was trying to sneak in after running late dropping Mari off.
But Mrs. Hale said, “Lanni!” and then someone started clapping, and someone else started stomping their feet. The whole room cheered as I sank into my seat.
I wanted to melt into the floor, or even better, threaten all their lives if they didn’t stop.
But my gaze drifted to Walsh, and he widened his eyes at me while giving a tiny bow with his head.
“Thanks.” I forced a little smile onto my face. “I’m happy to be back.”
Gideon reached out and took my hand. He twined his fingers through mine. Just for a moment. Just long enough to make sure everyone saw it wasn’t a simple handshake.
“Your hair looks great.” He let go and sat back in his seat.
“All right, all right.” Mrs. Hale hushed the class. “We still have a lot of material to get through before the end of the day. Gideon, perhaps you can help Lanni catch up on the work she missed.”
“I’d love to.” Gideon grinned, and I realized I would have been better off staring at the ceiling in my room.