Chapter Two
ABBY
I TAP MY fingers against the metal armrests of my chair and stare at the giant, brown desk in front of me. It’s cluttered, but so is the rest of the office. Shelves upon shelves filled with random, dusty knickknacks and filing boxes nobody will ever go through span the length of the room.
I shift uncomfortably as I eye the man sitting behind the desk.
Mark’s dressed casually today, his usual plaid, button-up shirt replaced with a thick, gray sweater. I can’t see what he’s wearing on the bottom, but I assume dark jeans. It’s what he always wears when he’s trying to appear approachable.
I glance at the clock, beyond bored as Mark drones on about next year’s projected financial forecast. He doesn’t like the numbers, and he seems to think it’s something I have control over.
I don’t think he understands what my job is. I can’t make money appear out of thin air, despite how much we all wish for that. Our revenue numbers are out of my hands, and if he wants the company to make more money, accounting isn’t the department that can achieve it. He should be complaining to sales.
Mark sighs. “This isn’t what I was hoping for.”
He’s said that already. Twice during this meeting, to be exact.
“I know,” I say.
Mark moves to run his fingers through his slicked-back hair before pausing and dropping his hand back to his desk. His gray strands are gelled out of his face, and it’s too early to ruin his hairstyle with stress ticks.
“I just wasn’t expecting this,” Mark continues. He should have. He’s been warned enough times. “I thought we were doing better.”
I think he wants me to apologize—maybe even offer to redo my work and make the numbers look better, but I won’t. We both know the only way out of our deficit is to lower our costs, and payroll is by far our largest expense.
The company can’t afford all its employees, and as sad as it is, some people need to be let go. I’d say at least three, which is a considerable amount for a company this small. I warned him last year not to hire too many employees, but he didn’t listen. He never does.
Mark’s forehead creases as he flicks through the papers I dropped on his desk yesterday morning. I’m surprised it took him this long to call me into his office, but I’m glad he took a day to absorb the information before addressing it. Mark’s a relatively nice guy, but he has a bit of a temper.
I don’t enjoy being on the receiving end of it.
A few tense seconds pass between us, and I debate asking to be excused. My projections are accurate, and I don’t enjoy watching him talk circles around himself. This meeting will give me a stress rash, and Lill gets painfully motherly when she sees one.
Maybe I should take her advice and quit.
I’ve got enough saved to support us for a few months while I look for a new job. I don’t think I’ll find anything that pays well nearby, but if I look at the surrounding larger cities, I’m sure I’ll find some good opportunities.
That would mean dipping into my home care fund and moving to a new apartment, both of which I’m hesitant to do. Lill and I have been renting our current place since we finished college, and I’ve come to think of it as home. It’s full of memories, good and bad, and I’m not ready to let it go.
It helps that the rent is dirt cheap.
Lill went to school for journalism, which was great until she got too sick to work. Despite having lived in the human realm for most of her life, she still finds us fascinating. She watches the news like I watch my reality dating shows—with fervor.
She would’ve made a kickass journalist.
“What do you suggest?” Mark asks.
I press my lips together, refusing to take the bait. He wants me to be the first to say layoffs , but I won’t give him the satisfaction. He needs to start making his list of essential employees, but I won’t be the one to tell him that. I don’t want to bear that guilt.
He runs the company. He does the layoffs. That’s his domain.
“It’s not looking good if we don’t make any changes,” I admit, avoiding his question. “Would you like me to take another look at the spreadsheet?”
I told myself I wouldn’t offer, but I’m weak. Besides, I’m willing to say anything to get out of his stuffy office. This meeting has been going on for way too long.
Mark nods, his head bobbing so quickly that a piece of his gelled hair falls into his eye. He smoothly pushes it back into place.
“I’d appreciate that,” he says. I’m sure he would.
Clearing my throat, I stand and gesture toward the door. “I’ll get to it, then.”
Mark nods again, and I retreat to my office. A group of women stand in the hallway chatting, utterly unaware that one of them will likely be laid off within the next month. I have a feeling it’s going to be Kristy.
She’s an excellent worker and everybody in the office loves her, but she’s paid more than the others and does the same level of work. It doesn’t make business sense to keep her around, even if she’s a great person.
My phone lights up as I step into my office, but I’m in no hurry to answer the call as I kick my door shut and pace the length of the room. I don’t have much social life outside of work and Lill, and most of my incoming calls are from my mom or dad.
They call me every week, usually with updates on my brother. He’s finishing his PhD in Clinical Psychology, and that’s all my parents want to discuss. I’m happy for him, but I’m tired of hearing about it.
My phone rings again, and I head to my desk to see who it is.
I’m scrambling to answer the second I notice it’s Lill’s name flashing on the screen. She never calls while I’m at work, and she wouldn’t unless it was urgent.
“Lill?” I ask, picking up the phone. “What’s wrong?”
There’s nothing but heavy breathing on her end, and my adrenaline spikes when I realize she’s crying. What the fuck is going on?
“Lill?” I repeat.
She sucks in a shaky breath, the inhale so loud, it makes it through the line.
“I’m so sorry to bother you at work,” she starts, her voice cracking, “but I fell getting out of the shower, and I messed up my ankle. I can’t get up.”
My stomach plummets. I’ve done everything I can think of to make our shower as safe as possible, from getting a small shower chair to screwing grab bars into the wall. It wasn’t enough.
“I’m on my way.”
Lill doesn’t respond, only cries, and I shove my things into my bag before grabbing my keys and rushing to the door. Mark knows my roommate is sick, and he’s never voiced any issues with me occasionally working from home.
I’ll always choose Lill over work.
Fuck . I hope her leg is okay.
“Stay on the line with me,” I order her. “Is there any blood?”
There’s silence before I hear a whispered, “No.”
I couldn’t be more relieved. There are just enough biological differences between faeries and humans that doctors and hospitals are risky. Lill can do simple things like get physicals and shots, which came in handy when we were young and school required her to have them. Anything that involves her being inspected beyond a surface level is out of the question, though. Lill can’t take the risk, and I hope no blood means nothing is broken.
I’ve watched several online videos and taken a few first-aid courses, but I can’t realistically do anything beyond slapping on a Band-Aid or creating a basic splint.
If I had any idea just how sick Lill would get, I would’ve gone to college for medicine. I could’ve gotten a nursing degree, which would have made caring for Lill so much easier.
There’s a quiet clatter as she sets down her phone. I’m not on speaker, but I can still just make out the sound of her sobbing. I doubt it’s from pain. She hates asking for help, and I’m almost one hundred percent sure her tears are out of guilt. She thinks she’s a burden, but that’s not how I see it. She needs help, and I’m more than happy to provide it. We may not share blood, but she’s my sister in every way that counts. I’ll take care of her until my dying breath—or hers.
Lill remains on the line while I speed home, quiet apologies I don’t want to hear continually slipping from her lips. My blood rushes through my ears as I whip my car into the first open spot I see and beeline toward our apartment. I can’t remember the last time I ran this fast, probably not since the one year I joined track and field in middle school, and I hardly notice my pounding heart as I rip open our front door and hurry to the bathroom.
My bag and laptop are lost somewhere along the way.
Lill didn’t lock the bathroom door, thank fucking god, and I don’t bother knocking as I push it open and step into the room. The water has been turned off, and I’m relieved to know she hasn’t spent the past twenty minutes being lightly waterboarded.
“Lill?” I ask.
She sniffles. “Yeah…”
I ease open the curtain.
Lill’s sitting in the tub, her long limbs pulled to her chest and her eyes red as she stares up at me. It’s been months since I last saw her naked, and I fight back tears as I see firsthand just how much weight she’s lost. I can count every rib, and I’m pretty sure I could fully wrap my hands around one of her thighs.
I shift my gaze to her swollen ankle. It doesn’t look great.
“I don’t think it’s broken,” Lill says. “But I can’t put weight on it, and I’m having trouble lifting myself.”
I’m hardly surprised she can’t pull herself up. Her arms are too weak to support her body weight.
I grab her towel off the hanger and wrap it around her torso, covering her bare skin before hooking my arms under her pits and lifting. She’s so fucking light. I wrap the towel around her back as she leans into me, letting me support her weight and guide her out of the tub.
Her hair soaks my clothes, the long, white strands sticking to everything they touch, and Lill struggles to tame them as we hobble into her bedroom.
She whines. “I’m so sorry.”
We reach her bed, and I help her lie back on the pink sheets before grabbing a pillow and shoving it underneath her ankle. It’s swollen, but nothing looks out of place—not that I really know where everything should be in the first place.
“Relax,” I say. “I’m going to get you some ice.”
I’m mildly aware I’m panting as I pull an ice pack from the freezer and return to her bedroom. It’s tidy, not a speck of dust or clutter to be found. Even the perfumes littering her dresser have been organized by size and color.
It wasn’t like this when I was in here last night to return a pair of socks I found in my laundry, which explains why she was so unsteady that she fell in the shower. She shouldn’t be exerting herself, especially not for trivial things like cleaning her bedroom.
I would’ve happily organized the room if I’d known it’d been bothering her.
“This is getting out of hand,” I say. I shouldn’t bring this up now. I know I shouldn’t, but the words are already coming out of my mouth. “Let me go to the faerie realm and get you some more delysum.”
Lill shakes her head, immediately shutting me down. It makes me angrier than it should.
I place the ice pack on her ankle. “You can’t ask me to sit here and watch you die. I refuse to do that when there’s a solution. You need more tea, and I can get it for you.”
Lill’s bottom lip trembles, but no tears fall. Now isn’t the time to bring this up, but I can’t help myself. It’s a solution, our only one, and I hate that she refuses to take it.
“I know all about the faerie realm,” I continue. “You’ve been telling me about it for years. I can get you delysum.”
Lill shakes her head again. “You know stories, Abby. That’s nothing. It’s not safe for you there, and you’re not going to change my mind.”
I run a hand through my hair, slightly relieved when my fingers catch on a knot. The sharp pain helps ground me, keeping me from turning and kicking the wall in frustration.
“Lill…” I start.
She cuts me off with a pointed glare. “I said no . Stop asking.”
I stomp my foot, the childish action all I can think to do at the moment, before grabbing the TV remote off her dresser and tossing it in her direction. She scrambles to catch it, her glare unwavering. She can be pissed all she fucking wants, but this is a good solution.
She would do the same thing for me, and being mad isn’t going to stop me from trying.
“Call me when you get hungry or need to go to the bathroom,” I say.
Lill sucks her cheeks into her mouth. “I will.”
She turns toward her TV, effectively dismissing me.
Stubborn bitch .