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SLEEP.
It was the only peace I got these days.
Peace from my fracturing soul. Peace from breaking.
They’d won.
They’d finally broken me. Finally proven that no one had unlimited resources to remain strong. That we all break eventually.
I wasn’t proud of myself.
I hated that I’d lost.
But at least Vaughn was safe. At least I’d done right by him.
I had no weapons to defend myself. No energy to push aside the dresser and protect myself. My belief that I could ruin them disappeared into dust.
Nothing mattered anymore.
I was theirs to do with what they wanted. And my heart was officially empty.
My reflection in the bathroom mirror showed a terrifying transformation. Hollows existed in my cheeks, shadows ringed my eyes, and the blood on my chest glowed with crimson fire.
But it was my missing hair that hurt the most.
Ragged and shorn, my glossy black strands were now in tatters. They hung over my ears, all different lengths, hacked into dysfunction by Daniel’s sheers. I no longer looked like Nila Weaver, daughter of Tex, sister to Vaughn, empress to a company worth millions. I looked like a runaway, a slave, a girl who’d seen death and no longer existed with the living.
I look ready to pay the Final Debt.
I feel ready to pay the final price.
There was no power left inside me.
Staring into my black eyes, I shivered at my listlessness.
They didn’t even let me say goodbye.
The moment the last strand hit the floor, Marquise had marched Vaughn from the room without a backward glance. I’d never seen V so wild or so helpless.
In two seconds, he’d disappeared.
I’d wanted to cry, to sob, to snap.
But I’d just stood there until Cut gave me permission to leave.
I was in a billion pieces.
How can I ever find my way back when I have no more glue to fix myself?
Bowing my head, I hated the unfamiliarity, the frigid breeze whistling around the back of my neck. My head was light as air and heavy with thunderclouds.
I’d lost everything. My backbone. My faith. They’d stolen more from me than just vanity—they’d stolen my right to myself.
I didn’t look away as I washed and tended. I couldn’t stop staring at my new face.
I didn’t have kind words to bolster my courage. I didn’t have hope to patch up my weeping heart. All I had was emptiness and the bone-deep desire to go to sleep and forget.
Using a torn piece of calico, I washed my wound as best as I could. Water whisked away the blood, but nothing could wash away the filth existing inside me.
I’d given up.
I’d vanished just as surely as Cut had won.
I was done.
Stumbling from the bathroom, I left behind the last remaining part of me. I said goodbye to the woman I once knew and fell face first into bed.
No thoughts.
No wishes.
Just emptiness.
I let sleep consume me.
* * * * *
Jethro smiled, holding me close.
His body heat, normally negligible with his cold temperature, roared with love and healing.
“I’ve got you now, Nila. It’s okay. I’ll make it all go away.”
Having someone look after me after so long, undammed my tears, and I fell into his embrace. “I’ve missed you so much. I tried to be strong. I tried.” I cried harder. “I tried to be so strong but it’s not enough. Nothing will ever be enough. I’m empty. I’m lost. I don’t know how to get back.”
Jethro’s lips kissed my forehead. “You’re so strong. You’ll heal. Hush. I’ve got you. You’ll be alright. Hush.” He rocked me, soothing my hair, never letting me go.
“I can’t do this anymore, Jethro. I can’t.” I curled into his arms, wanting to fade away and stop everything. “There’s nothing left. I have nothing...nothing!”
He kissed my hair—my beautiful, long hair. A low growl built in his throat. “You won’t have to. I’m ending it. I’m going to save you. It will all be over soon.”
The dream unwound from my thoughts as a tap against glass roused me.
The vacant despair inside me throbbed, but sleep had patched me together infinitesimally—letting me hold on just a little longer. Jethro’s dream embrace stitched the vanishing pieces together just enough that I didn’t burst into tears.
Whatever the Hawks did to me, no matter what affliction I suffered, no matter how desolate my mind became, I still existed—still survived.
I’m not done until I’m dead. And even then, I’m immortal.
Remember that and be strong.
The rapping came again, guiding my eyes to the dark window.
The heavy emerald drapes puddled velvet from ceiling to floor. They blocked the night sky and any hint of the mysterious noise.
Tap. Tap-tap.
Could a tree have fallen? Could Flaw be throwing stones at my window to get my attention?
Curiosity overrode my stiffness, forcing me from the warmth of slumber. Shuffling from the covers, the room swirled with vertigo. The imbalance was worse because I’d given in. I couldn’t fight it anymore. I let the black wave take me, gripping the mattress until it faded. The cut on my chest burned as I breathed hard and slow.
The tapping came faster, louder.
Climbing unsteadily to my feet, I padded across the room and wrenched the curtains aside.
My eyes dropped to the sill, searching for answers.
I tripped backward.
What—
Something feathered and flighty hopped away, only to soar back and tap against the glass. I’d expected to see a wayward branch or even some flotsam that’d lodged against the frame.
I hadn’t expected this.
Had some messenger from God come to slap me for being so lost? Was it some mystery of Mother Nature saying she believed in me?
I’m not alone...
My heart swelled as lost hope unfurled.
The people I lived with might not care about me...but others did. I couldn’t stop fighting because I was loved. Out there, somewhere, I was loved by people who mattered.
My heart twisted as I bent closer to inspect.
The bird of prey rapped its beak on the window, hopping on the sill outside. Its beady black eyes tore through me, as if in one glance it knew what I’d dealt with and how close I was to the end.
You understand me, little bird. Are you my saviour?
Backing away from the window, I balled my hands.
You don’t need a saviour...if you only believed in yourself again...
So what, your hair is gone? So what, your brother is gone? So what, Jethro is gone?
You’re not gone.
So fight!
The bird charged the pane, rapping its beak with fury.
I froze.
Winter ice had chased away autumn far too fast. The spidery lace of frost decorated corners of the glass. The radiating cold cut through my cotton nightgown like knives.
Poor thing.
I hated to think of the poor creature in the cold. No animal should be without shelter.
I moved forward and opened the wrought iron catch. Cracking the window open, the bird immediately hopped inside.
No fear. No hesitation.
Where the hell had this bird come from?
I froze as the raptor spread its wings, ran across the interior window, and hopped onto my hand.
“Ah!” I snatched my hand back. Its talons were sharp and its beak deadly. I’d had enough pain at the hands of human hawks to let a feathered one hurt me, too.
The bird puffed out its chest. Its beak glinted wickedly while it cocked its head and stared at me with intelligent eyes.
It saw right through me.
It saw how broken I was. How tired. How desolate.
It made me drown in guilt for being so feeble.
Unwanted tears crept into my eyes.
“I don’t have anything for you. I doubt cereal will impress a carnivore like you.”
The bird chirped.
The noise whipped through the room, sending my eyes darting to the door. I didn’t want to give any reason for Daniel to visit me. He’d done enough. He’d done too much.
Backing away, I shooed it. “Go on...get out of here.”
Instead of flying away, it hopped closer, once again targeting my hand.
“No, wait—”
It didn’t listen. With a single flap, it hopped off the sill and landed on the back of my knuckles. Its wings soared open for balance, its talons digging into my flesh for purchase.
My bicep clenched beneath its weight and I steeled myself against its uninvited presence. Its scaly legs shuffled, doing its best to remain in one place. Taking pity on it, I curled my fingers, creating a rudimentary perch. It chirped, wrapping its sharp talons around my skin. Its weight was surprisingly heavy, its plumage dense with feathers of coppers and brass. “Hi.”
It tilted its head sideways, chirping again.
A draft whistled through the gap in the open window. I moved to close it, but the bird nipped at my knuckle.
“Ouch.” I went to shake him off, but my eyes fell on its leg.
The hawk or kestrel flapped its wings, dispelling a rogue feather to flutter to the carpet. It somehow knew I’d seen its message.
My heart stopped beating as I looked through the window, squinting into the darkness. Who’d sent it? Were they still out there?
No shadows moved outside; no hint of midnight visitors.
“Who sent you?” I murmured as I glanced at the white parchment wrapped around its leg. Reaching for the red bow, I tugged it loose.
The bird screeched, bouncing up and down with impatience. Its sudden agitation forced me to yank harder. The roll of paper fell away, dropping to the sill.
With the heavy bird on one hand, I did my best to unroll the scroll and read.
However, the raptor didn’t wait. It had done its duty—it had delivered its message. Without a backward glance, it soared off my hand and slipped like a winged demon through the window crack and into the sky. Instantly, the camouflage of its feathers vanished against twinkling stars.
My heart steadily increased its tempo; my breathing turned erratic. Pinching the note, I smoothed it out until the finest, tantalizing, most miraculous sentence I’d ever seen imprinted on my brain.
Come to the stables.
My knees wobbled.
My heart grew wings.
Jethro.
He’s here.
He’s come back for me.
I am not forgotten.
