Realm of the Wicked

Chapter 1

STELLA

I’d always wondered how the universe decided our fates. Did it flip a coin? Draw straws?

One thing was for certain: my younger sister definitely won the losing prize.

Grace clutched at my hands, her pulse jackhammering into my cool palm. The doctor was speaking to us, but static filled my ears, drowning out any sounds she was making. I could make out the shape of the words, but even then, I didn’t need to.

I knew what she was saying. It’s what we’d been dancing around for the last eighteen months, not letting our brains focus on it for fear it would stain.

Progressive.

Advanced.

No cure.

Terminal.

Grace squeezed my hand, hard enough I was certain my bones cracked under her grip.

The temptation to drift away at this moment was intoxicating.

How easy it would be to fade away until nothing remained in this uncomfortable chair except the outline of my soul.

The static grew louder, but somewhere beneath the fuzz, I could just about make out the edges of my name.

Stella…

Stella…

‘Stella.’

Thundering back into my body, I found the doctor and Grace staring at me expectantly. Just because something was intoxicating didn’t mean I could give in. I had too many responsibilities.

I cleared my throat. ‘I’m sorry. I missed that.’

Meeting my sister’s eyes would’ve broken my heart if I hadn’t so carefully surrounded it with armor.

Grace looked up to me for everything. I couldn’t abandon her now.

She was perfect, her hair pulled up into a messy bun on her head, the make-up she shouldn’t have had the energy for, but still somehow made time for, carefully masking a too-pale face.

She should be at college, meeting friends, laughing with boys.

Not at a hospital, the spark slowly draining from her soul.

It was the doctor’s turn to clear her throat, and I tore my gaze away from Grace. Dr Murphy was one of the newer ones we had been referred to, hoping they’d be able to tell us something. I’d scraped the last of the money from the insurance payout to afford it, hoping it would be worthwhile.

Apparently not.

She offered me a sad smile, one I wanted her to take back. I didn’t want her sadness, or her sympathy, or her pity. I wanted her to fix Grace.

‘I’m sorry, Miss Whittier. I wish I had better news. The disease is quite progressive, and there’s nothing more we can do. We’ve tried every treatment we could think of.’

I didn’t like that word. Nothing. It felt hollow on my tongue, a useless combination of letters. There was always something. There had to be.

I shook my head, refusing to look in Grace’s direction until we had a definite answer. ‘There has to be something we’ve missed. Some combination of radiation we haven’t tried before. A new drug. Something still in testing, even.’

‘Miss Whittier… Stella.’ Dr Murphy’s eyes were distant, already pulling away from me.

I knew what that meant. She was already looking to the future, toward the patients she had a better chance of saving.

But if they’d give Grace five more minutes, I knew there was something we could do to fix it.

She turned in her stool, rummaging around on the sickly green countertop behind her.

Every exam room looked the same, no matter which hospital we were in.

Same green counters. Same faded brown exam tables, the cushioning long gone.

Same doctor, giving us the same useless answers.

Eighteen months of this. Eighteen months since Grace had fainted at her waitressing job, and I’d rushed her to the emergency room, only to hear the words everyone dreads.

Cancer.

Of course, since then, it had been one useless doctor after the next.

No one could agree on what kind of cancer Grace had, which made treating it difficult.

One said it began in her blood. Another, in her bones.

The contradictory test results left doctors flustered, and us, frustrated.

I hadn’t always been this jaded. I didn’t remember when I had changed, either.

I tried to hide it the best I could, for Grace’s sake.

I stuffed down the dark thoughts, the rapidly dissolving hope, and hid them behind a semi-believable smile.

My strength remained for her, no matter how false it felt on my tongue.

Dr Murphy turned back toward us, a thin brochure in her hand. ‘Here,’ she offered. ‘This might be of some help to you.’

Dropping Grace’s hand, I grabbed the brochure, hopeful to see an experimental study laid out in front of me. Instead, a nurse’s smiling face stared back at me.

‘What is this?’ I asked, flipping open the flimsy brochure to a page of what looked to be fancy hotel rooms.

‘A hospice. You’re going to need more help soon, and this is a wonderful place, and I think both you and Grace will—’

My heart froze, my hands refusing to turn the next page. I couldn’t.

‘Thank you, but no.’ I handed the brochure back to the doctor. ‘I think I have it under control.’

‘Stella…’ Grace whispered. ‘Stella, maybe it’s time…’

Wide-eyed, I whipped my head toward Grace. ‘No. Don’t you start. We’ve come this far. We’re not about to quit now.’

Even though she looked to be on the verge of tears, Grace nodded. The last eighteen months had taken a toll on her body, leaving her pale and frail, almost translucent in the harsh fluorescent lighting. I knew she was tired. We both were. She just needed to hang on a little bit longer.

She trusted me. For the last ten years, it’d just been her and me. I hadn’t led her astray yet, and I wasn’t about to start now.

‘Please,’ I begged the doctor. ‘There has to be something else worth a shot. Even if it’s the smallest of chances. Don’t count her out yet.’

Please, don’t count her out yet. I wasn’t ready to be alone on this earth. Anything I’d still been clinging to would certainly fade away then.

Dr Murphy pursed her lips. ‘I’m sorry, Stella. I really think hospice is your best bet at this point. It will allow both you and Grace to gain some closure and peace, without all of the added stresses. You’ve both been through so much.’

The thin faultline along my heart shattered an inch more. I clung to whatever I had left. ‘Please. I… I…’

The words wouldn’t come, but it didn’t matter.

I didn’t know what to say. I wanted to go back in time, far back before any of this happened, back before my parents died.

As if I could somehow warn us all of the tragedies ahead.

But wishing and hoping didn’t help either of us.

This was our reality, and the only choice I had left was to make the best of it.

‘How long?’ I whispered, trying to stop my voice from cracking. Strong. I needed to be strong for Grace.

Dr Murphy looked at Grace, who nodded in the corner of my eye. ‘Six months. Maybe a year if we’re lucky.’

There it was. A set length of time. Months. I had mere months left with my baby sister, my best friend, my person. I tried to focus, even as a knife twisted in my lungs, making it harder to breathe. Why were all hospitals so cold?

Grace needs you.

I grabbed her hands, facing my beautiful sister, as if I could memorize every inch of her perfect face in this sterile hospital room. ‘I’ll do whatever you want to do.’

A tiny tear lingered on her eyelashes, unable to fall, as Grace struggled to maintain her composure.

As hard as it was, at some point, I needed to accept it wasn’t my decision. So I’d give her the reins. If she wanted me to fight, I’d fight until my last breath. If she was ready, I’d do my best to make my peace with that.

She didn’t look away from me as she asked her question, quietly, as if speaking it any louder made it too real. ‘Does it have to be right now?’

I smiled, my feeble mask threatening to crack at any point. ‘Of course not.’ I faced the doctor, daring her to say otherwise. ‘Right?’

But she only offered me a quiet smile. ‘No.’ She looked down at the file in her hands.

‘We have Grace scheduled for follow-up scans in two weeks. I think we should keep those scans, and then make our decisions based on that. If the scans come back worse than the most recent, hospice will be better sooner rather than later. If they’re stable, I’d feel comfortable with her at home for a bit longer. ’

The tear finally fell from Grace’s eye, and I swiped it away with my thumb. My own tears were building, but I wouldn’t allow them to fall until I was alone. ‘It’s okay. That means we still have time, right?’

‘I’m sorry I don’t have better news for you.’ Dr Murphy rose to her feet, moving toward the door. ‘I truly wish there was something I could do. I’m not sure you two know how lucky you are to have each other. Please, don’t rush. Take your time leaving.’

With those words, she left us alone, and the sudden weight of the appointment slammed into both of us. Grace looked ready to shatter into a million pieces, and I pulled her to her feet before she could. My arms would keep her whole.

‘Not here, Gracie. Come on. Let’s get you home, and I’ll get you tacos on the way. My treat.’

I tucked my sister under my arm, and she sniffled. ‘It’s always your treat, Stella. I don’t have a job any more.’

My laugh startled a passing nurse as we walked into the hallway. ‘You don’t? You’re telling me you’ve been freeloading off me this whole time? I can’t believe it!’

She shook her head with a quiet laugh. ‘I don’t know how you can still make me laugh, even when I feel like my world is breaking down.’

Because I’ve hidden those feelings so deep, you’d never be able to find them. Because you deserve to be happy. Because I know if I show any weakness, I’ll break completely.

I squeezed Grace tight, ignoring how bony her shoulder felt, and the way her ribs pressed into my side. She was too thin. ‘It’s easy when I have you as my best friend.’

We found our way to the parking garage in comfortable silence, the way it had always been. I opened her car door, waited until she had strapped herself in, and climbed into my seat.

Slipping my sunglasses on, I turned to her with a smile. ‘Emotional support tacos?’

Grace smiled back, my entire world sealed up into a too-frail body. ‘Emotional support tacos.’

Tacos wouldn’t cure Grace. They couldn’t fix my broken heart. But they were better than nothing, and right now, nothing was all we had.

After a lunch of too many tacos, and terrible reality television – our guilty pleasure – I tucked Grace into bed, just like I had when she was a kid.

She turned on her side, curling up into a ball like she’d done since we were younger.

It was funny how little we changed as we grew.

The most important parts of us were hammered in stone, and the rest… well, the rest really didn’t matter.

I pushed a stray bit of golden hair away from her face, so like my own, and yet, so different. I favored my father in looks, my features bold, sharply outlined like a rough charcoal drawing, while Grace took after my mother, delicate, and fine-boned.

Taking her out after her doctor’s appointment probably wasn’t the wisest choice, and our emotional support taco excursion had drained her completely.

But I knew coming home to mope wouldn’t have helped either of us.

I probably coddled her too much. I was just so desperate to protect her from as much of the bad as I could.

Sitting on the edge of her bed, I watched her. Maybe she had always been too perfect for this world. Maybe, I knew it all along.

Archie, my white Maine Coon, leaped on the bed next to me, curling up along Grace’s leg. I smiled, stroking him. ‘You’re a good boy protecting her, aren’t you?’ I whispered.

Eventually, he was going to be all I had left. He purred as if he could hear my turmoil.

‘Stella?’ Grace sat up, looking at me with sleepy eyes.

I patted her leg. ‘You should be sleeping.’

‘I’m worried.’

I smiled, wishing I could take away any fears and anxieties she had with nothing more than a single word. Unfortunately, life didn’t work like that. ‘What’s got you worried?’

She chewed on her lip. ‘I’m worried what will happen to you when I’m… gone. I don’t want to leave you all alone. I don’t want you to be mad at the world.’

My sister was dying, and she was worried about me. Life was twisted.

I tamped down the feelings boiling to the surface. ‘You don’t need to worry about me. You just need to worry about you. Besides, I would never be alone. I have Archie, and my friends at work, and Mrs Mullins, and—’

‘Promise me you won’t give up.’ Grace clutched at my hands, stronger than she had seemed in weeks.

‘Promise me that after I’m gone, you won’t give up.

You’ll keep living life, and you’ll do all the things we talked about doing before I got sick.

Tell me you’ll go scuba diving in the Maldives.

You’ll hike the Inca Trail. You have to, for me. ’

‘Grace, you aren’t gone, you’re right here, and we should focus on that. We could plan a trip to Bora Bora together…’ I trailed off, unsure of how to console her without lies.

‘That’s bullshit and we both know it.’ She narrowed her eyes. ‘Promise me, damn it.’

A beat of silence passed between us.

‘Promise me you’ll go see the Northern Lights.’

‘Grace…’

Her expression didn’t change.

I sighed. ‘I promise.’

Her face softened. ‘Thank you.’

She released my hand, curling back into a ball, and within minutes was snoring quietly. I watched her for a moment more, hoping the promise I made wouldn’t be broken. That list we made together felt like a different lifetime altogether.

Getting to my feet, I kissed her forehead, and walked out of the apartment, locking the door behind me. I’d stop in on our neighbor Mrs Mullins on my way out and ask her to check on Grace with her spare key.

My hands were tied in a hopeless situation. No matter which way I looked at it, I had already broken a promise. I needed to escape before I fell into my grief over breaking another.