18

~Vaela

I lean against the doorway to Hale’s office.

"Eyla is asleep." I inform him. Mercifully, it took little coaxing, having wrung all her energy out from the stress. "She will be okay."

Hale sweeps a hand back through his hair, dark waves raining back down over his forehead. He’s been in here, simmering in his own anger. I came to terms with what happened to me a long time ago, so seeing Hale experience my death with fresh emotion is confronting.

"And you?" He asks gently.

He speaks to me like he’s willing and ready to envelop me in a meaningful embrace if I need it. I’m almost weak enough to consider it.

"I'm numb," I murmur pitifully.

His gaze softens. "Your grief will come."

I practically fall into the room, leaning against the wall. I can't be alone, not yet. My fear is that once the lights darken, and I'm left to my own thoughts, my carefully constructed wall of valour will tumble down.

"I don’t want it to," I whisper. Hale exhales, as if he's working through my pain with me.