Chapter 37 - Sam

After seeing that she had indeed helped Elizabeth, Sam rushed back to the shelter, hoping Jacob and his father hadn’t left. Mateo walked back with them, asking questions all the way there.

They found Jacob sitting outside the shelter with his dad, huddled together on the front stoop. Breakfast had wrapped up and everyone else had left. But, true to his word, Jacob had waited for Sam to get back.

After some convincing and offers of more food, Bruce agreed to come back in. Mateo opened a side door and let them back into the building. They made their way to the kitchen and found Nadine and Dan enjoying a cup of coffee.

“Hey,” Dan lifted his cup at them.

“What are you guys up to?” Nadine was surprised to find four unexpected people in her kitchen.

Mateo walked to a coffee maker that sat on a table next to a stack of Styrofoam cups and packets of sugar. “Coffee, anyone? I know I need some.”

Jacob’s blue eyes fixed on Sam. They were wide with a hint of fear and worry in their depths. His arms wrapped around his father’s waist. Bruce set a large hand on his shoulder and drew him closer.

“What’s going on, Sam?” Jacob could sense something. It wasn’t hard, though—not with five sets of eyes set on him and his father.

“Nothing bad, Jacob,” Sam said in a tender voice, trying to reassure him. “It’s just . . . I would like to help your dad. I think I can make him better.”

“Better?” the boy repeated the word as if he didn’t know its meaning.

Sam nodded. “I have a special skill. I can . . . heal people.”

“It’s true,” Mateo said. “I’ve seen it.”

Jacob looked up at his father. “Dad?”

Bruce patted his son’s shoulder, his eyes staring into nothing.

“Will it hurt him?” Jacob asked.

Sam couldn’t have answered that question just last night, but today she knew what the dimness of Bruce’s vinculum meant and how much it would, indeed, hurt to repair it. She also knew how necessary it was.

It would also hurt her and, even as she stood there offering to help, she dreaded the emptiness, the anguish and pain Bruce would share with her. She didn’t want to feel that again. She understood the loss all too well. It hit too close to home, to reliving that instant when Danata tore her from Ashby. But she had no other choice. It was within her power to help Jacob, to make his life infinitely better. She had to do it.

“Yes, it will hurt. Badly.” Sam couldn’t lie to him, even if it would make this easier. “But afterward, he’ll be better. He’ll be himself again.”

“I . . . I don’t even remember how he used to be. It’s been so long ago since . . .”

Nadine made a small sound in the back of her throat and put a chubby hand over her mouth.

Sam’s throat tightened as she fought the urge to cry, not knowing what to say. She glanced at Greg who was watching her in turn, his thick eyebrows scrunched together. He was reading her emotions, worried about more than her physical wellbeing, intent on saving her from more than just her vengeful enemies.

“Hey, buddy,” he knelt in front of Jacob. “You don’t have to be afraid. In the end, no matter if it hurts a little, it’ll be better. Like ripping off a dirty Band-Aid. Once the ouch passes, your father will be able to take care of you—not the other way around.”

“It’s okay, son,” Bruce spoke, surprising everyone. “It . . . it sounds like, like something I want to do.” The words came out choppy, revealing the effort this small lucid moment cost him.

Sam’s skin crawled.

“Wow,” Dan murmured.

Bruce was still in there somewhere, lost inside his own body. He had to be a strong man to have survived this for who knows how long. All the people in the shelter were resilient, so much more than she would ever be. When Danata did this to her, Sam immediately turned her back on life and began drifting away. She’d only survived because of Greg. If not for him, she would be dead now.

“Okay,” Jacob said in a very small voice.

“Why don’t you go with Nadine?” Mateo suggested. “She’ll get you something good to munch on.”

Nadine’s shoulders slumped. “But I thought I could stay and . . .”

“I’ll go with him,” Dan offered. “Come with me, bud. There’s this place around the corner that sells the best banana bread muffins. You’ll love them!”

Jacob went with Dan. He dragged his feet and looked over his shoulder, eyes wavering with tears. Sam’s heart shrank at the sight of his pitiful face. The boy and his father were inseparable.

“Let’s go into the meeting room, why don’t we?” Mateo put an arm around Bruce’s back and guided him toward the kitchen’s back door.

Sam took a deep breath and followed them.

“You think you can handle it?” Greg walked beside her. He leaned closer in an effort to make eye contact.

She was tired—no doubt about that—but how could she wait to feel 100% when so many people were suffering and she had the key to make it all better?

“I think I can.” Maybe there was a limit to how much she could do. If there was, she would find out soon enough. But she had to test and find those boundaries.

She hadn’t sounded convincing, even to her own ears, but Greg said nothing in response. He simply walked by her side and stood by her after they entered the room. Bruce stood in the middle, forehead pinched. His gaze moved around in circles. His head swiveled from side to side.

“Jacob?” he said, his tone edgy and at the verge of something more desperate.

“I think you’d better hurry,” Nadine said from the door. She had her back against it, whether guarding it or staying close to the only exit was anyone’s guess.

Sensing Bruce could lose his cool very quickly without Jacob in sight, Sam narrowed her eyes, caught sight of his vinculum and stepped up to him. Her arm jerked upward and she took the severed link between her fingers. A savage weight settled on her chest. She gasped, air leaving her lungs like she’d been punched. A chilly darkness and desolation fell over her. The feeling was expected and familiar by now, but that didn’t make it any less frightening and despicable.

Sam fought for her next breath and the strength to keep upright.

For Jacob. For Jacob.

The thought helped. She pictured his sweet face and the wide smile she could bring to his lips by healing his father. It was what she needed. With that image as her focus, Sam opened up to her Morphid nature and let her instincts take control once more.

In a desolate plain all on her own, she stood. Before, it had all been a jumble of light and desperation, but now it seemed her control had improved, even if only a little. Bruce was there, eyes closed, head thrown back. His face twitched. He bared his teeth in a growl that carried no sound. A bright outline delineated his body.

As if they weren’t her own, she watched her fingers work. They glided up and down the severed strands of light as if they were a harp’s strings. She was not aware of how long it took, but she knew that, this time, she was faster.

When she was done and Bruce’s dangling vinculum was no more, Sam let her hands fall to the side. Her fingers ached. She tightened her hands into fists, but the pain just seemed to intensify. A small moan sounded in the back of her throat. She looked around expecting to see Greg at her side, but he wasn’t there.

No one was there.

She whirled, frantically searching her surroundings. She was in a different place, in the plain where vinculums lived. Her heart burst into a frantic pounding.

Why was she still here?

Leave! I want to leave!

Sam shut her eyes, willed her instincts to guide her out. After a moment, she opened her eyes, but nothing had changed.

She was trapped.