Chapter 25 Welcome Home
Welcome Home
JESSICA
EIGHT YEARS AGO:
Emerald Pack Clinic
Dr. York sits in front of me, legs crossed, with my medical chart on his lap. His posture is relaxed, face devoid of creases, especially between his brows. When he finally meets my eye, a soft smile touches his lips.
“Everything looks good. Your hair has grown at least three inches. Even your eyelashes are coming back in. All of your wounds have closed. Labs have almost returned to normal levels. I am pleased with how well you’re healing these past few weeks.
I admit you gave us all quite a scare. I’m happy everything turned in your favor. ”
“Me, too,” I rasp.
His smile widens. “Your voice is slowly coming back, too, which reminds me. I submitted a request for speech therapy. As soon as I hear back from them, we can start that.” Nodding, I watch Dr. York jot a note in his scrawling, messy handwriting. “Do you know what all of this means?”
A sense of dread creeps along the back of my neck. Do I know what all this means? Is he referring to my labs? No. He looks too happy to be thinking of my bloodwork.
“You no longer need constant medical supervision. The rest of the treatments can be done outside of the clinic.”
Yep. I was afraid he would say it. My hope to remain here long enough to enroll into the guard recruit program crashes and burns. Shakti hasn’t mentioned anything about taking me in. I guess that means orphanage here I come.
My lips tremble so I press them together and put on a brave face.
I can’t cry. This is supposed to be good—no, great—news.
But it makes me so sad, knowing I must leave.
I refuse to cry in front of Dr. York. I’m not his problem anymore, and I won’t make him feel guilty or sorry for me. I offer a small smile and nod.
He pats my knee before standing. “I’ll tell Anders.” As soon as he leaves, I reach for the journal under my pillow and pour my disappointed feelings onto the blank pages.
I haven’t seen Anders in a few hours, and other than Ean, the rest of the guards were absent all day. Maybe Anders told them not to come, now that I am awaiting discharge.
Sighing, I look out the window. Dark clouds roll overhead, and large raindrops slide down the glass pane. I stopped crying about an hour ago. It looks like the weather decided to cry for me now.
“Everything okay, Jessica?” Facing Anders, I nod and smile half-heartedly.
Anders crosses the threshold to my room and sits at the foot of my bed. Over his shoulder, I see that strange man I met earlier, Shadow, lurking in the doorway.
Wait. Is this the same guy? He looks different somehow.
He removed his suit jacket and tie. Some of the buttons are undone, exposing his throat.
Slowly, my eyes return to his face. His jet-black hair almost seems blue.
He styles it shorter on the sides and a little long on the top.
He has a widow’s peak, and it curls into a slight wave that rests on his forehead just above his dark brows.
Thick lashes surround dark blue eyes—well, they were dark.
Maybe the lighting is different here because they appear lighter now.
The corner of his lip twitches with amusement.
That’s what it is. He’s amused. His expression has softened. When I first walked into Anders’s office, he acted like a life-sized cardboard cutout of himself. He was stiff and void almost. Now, he is animated. His face reflects—I don’t know—life.
“I’m sorry I took so long. My meeting went a bit longer than originally planned.”
I understand.
“Thank you,” he replies, reaching for the book in front of me. I planned on reading it after my journal writing. I guess I won’t finish it now. “Weapons of martial arts. Hmmm, this wouldn’t by any chance have to do with you wanting to be in the guard?”
I glance down at my hands and answer him with my thoughts. It was in your office. I thought I would familiarize myself with some of the weapons. I wrinkle my nose.
Anders smiles and shows Shadow the book’s cover. “Is it alright if we table our discussion for the moment? I would like to discuss something else first.”
Well, that’s a polite way of saying no. My heart sinks. The rain taps harder against the windowpane.
“I didn’t say no, just yet. I need to think about it, and I need to discuss it with Chris and Elias.” Hope flickers in my chest. “Shadow is our recruiting officer. I gave him your application. He will review it, and depending on our collectively decision, he will notify you.”
It’s not a definitive answer, but I can look forward to a response, at least a small possibility that they won’t write me off completely.
Anders chuckles. “Don’t think too much about it. I haven’t made up my mind yet, but it’s a start. We can talk about it more a little later.”
I lean forward and wrap my arms around Anders. “Thank you,” I rasp, using my voice. Then, I jump off my bed and bound over to Shadow. As I wrap my skinny arms around him, a tether of sorts tugs at my heart.
He tenses, with a quick intake of breath. Am I hurting him? Maybe he doesn’t like being touched.
Shit. I loosen my hold on him when his arms slowly, awkwardly embrace me. The tension I felt earlier softens. I peer up, expecting to see his chin. Instead, striking blue eyes gaze down at me. A clash of light and dark alternate before settling on a lighter shade of blue.
He stares at me for a few more seconds before looking to Anders, frowning. “It stopped raining,” he claims.
I drop my arms and face the window. The sun shines in all its warm glory.
“So it seems,” Anders whispers.
Shadow asks, “Does the weather always match your feelings?”
I shrug, looking to Anders to interpret for me. Not that I’ve noticed.
Anders shakes his head. “Jessica, why don’t you mind-link with Shadow and tell him yourself?”
I don’t know how to.
“You’ve done it with Chris and Elias. Why don’t you just—I don’t know, humor me—give it a try?”
I clasp my hands in front of me and fidget with my fingers. I don’t know how to connect willingly. With Chris and Elias, it just happened, the same way it did with Anders and the twins.
I angle myself slightly and stare straight at Shadow’s forehead, pretending for an instant that I can break past the invisible barrier that lies between his skull and brain.
Feeling ridiculous, I eventually lower my gaze.
His features are soft, and a slight smile touches his lips.
At least when he smiles now, he doesn’t look constipated or like he’s holding in a fart.
Shadow bursts into a hearty laugh, and my eyes widen. “That’s too bad. To think this entire time, I thought my smile looked genuine,” he commented.
Nope. definitely looked like constipation. I press my lips together to prevent my growing smile.
“I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks for the tip.”
Yeah. Sure. Any time. Heat rises, coloring my cheeks.
I don’t like the idea of him hearing my thoughts anymore.
It’s too much like an invasion of my privacy.
Regaining my composure, I clear my throat.
So, in answer to your earlier question, no.
I haven’t noticed whether my moods correlate with the weather.
Shadow’s smile fades, and his expression becomes serious. “Maybe you should pay attention.” His eyes shift from my face to Anders. “Well, I really should be going. I’ll keep in touch and let you know when I will be by again.”
Anders nods farewell.
Before Shadow turns to leave, he says, “I look forward to our next meeting. I’m interested to see what else pops through that mind of yours.”
I stand by the door and watch his retreating back, still trying to make sense of him.
He’s peculiar; that’s for sure. As he strides down the hall, I notice how tall he is—at least six foot two—with wide shoulders that taper to a narrow waist. I admire his backside, for a few more seconds.
His girlfriend is a very lucky girl. I shake my head to clear it of his image and turn back toward the room.
Anders narrows his eyes. “Please don’t tell me you look at all the guards like that.”
I blush, glancing down at my hands. Oops. I forgot he could still hear my thoughts. I wrinkle my nose and smirk.
“Oops? Do not make me lock you in our dungeon until you’re 100,” he threatens.
I cock my head to the side. We have a dungeon? Did I miss that part of the tour?
“Stop being such a wiseass.” Anders’s phone rings. “I need to answer this. You’ll be discharged within the hour, and I’ll return to collect you.” He raises the phone to his ear and walks out of the room.
I guess he lost the nerve to tell me that I’m going to an orphanage.
Mimi arrives with an injection and a medicine cup full of supplements. I thought I was done with those. I haven’t taken any since I woke up from that whole ordeal, almost dying and whatnot.
Shakti isn’t here to question it, and the twins can’t interpret for me. My voice is still too weak to murmur more than a word or two. So, I simply take the medicine.
After Mimi leaves, I pack my belongings. I don’t really have much. Everything fits into two shopping bags, mostly clothes Shakti brought for me. Left alone with my thoughts, I decide to clean my room, make it presentable, as if no one was here. I just need to stay busy. I don’t want to cry.
I hope while I am cleaning my room that the guards stop by.
Even when Shakti and the twins resumed their daily visits, the guards continued our routine.
I began to think of them as friends, family even.
Especially Liam. I thought we had gotten closer.
He even started reading to me at night, so I could fall asleep. All in my imagination, I suppose.
Time creeps slowly by, and my heart aches. The twins don’t show up, and neither does Shakti. It hurts they didn’t say goodbye. Outside, rain pummels the earth.
It feels like forever by the time Anders returns. He retrieves my two bags and asks. “Is this everything?”