Chapter 47
“The veil is not death, but the hush that comes before it.
A breath unspoken, a thread unspooled.
Mourn not the crossing—
for even the gods must pass through it to be born again.”
- The Old Book
The Facility - Month 5
The air was unusually still that morning, heavy in a way I couldn’t name. I swung my legs over the edge of the bed, stretching stiffly as the cold floor greeted my bare feet. Across the room, Talia remained curled under her blanket.
I padded softly over to her bed and knelt.
“Talia,” I whispered, nudging her shoulder gently. “Come on, let’s go get breakfast.”
She needed to eat, and if I didn’t wake her to go do so, then she wouldn’t. Talia no longer made crafts, smiled, or even spoke. Her body was a hollow shell—her mind absent. She had stopped taking care of herself entirely—she hardly even got out of bed to shower.
I tried again to shake her, firmer this time.
“Talia. You need to eat,” I said firmer.
She still didn’t stir. My stomach twisted. I leaned in closer, my pulse erratic. Her skin was pale–too pale. I reached out, my fingers pressing gently against the side of her neck.
There was no pulse.
“Talia?” My voice cracked. I yanked her blanket back fully, exposing her small frame, stiff and too still. Her lips were blue, and her eyes were closed peacefully, as if she’d simply drifted into a dream she never woke from. The faintest smile was on her face.
Panic swelled in my chest.
“Karina!” I screamed. “Someone! I need help!”
Within moments, footsteps echoed down the hall. Karina burst through the door, followed closely by two healers. I stumbled backward as they rushed in. I couldn’t look at her anymore. My sweet, broken Talia—who painted flowers on dresser drawers and molded whimsical characters from clay—was gone.
One healer pulled out a device of some kind and scanned it over her lifeless body. His expression was blank, clinical. After several moments, he spoke to his colleague, who was standing by, notepad in hand.
“Heart attack.”
I blinked, stunned.
“A heart attack? She’s thirteen.”
“Fate is mysterious,” the healer said quietly, “and not to be questioned.”
I recoiled as if slapped. She was only thirteen—the same age as Alona. So young and innocent. I wanted to scream, to rip his words from the air and shove them back down his throat. But all I could do was stand there, chest heaving, trembling.
I watched silently as they took Talia’s body away. They had put her body on a stretcher and placed a white sheet atop her still body. It had been respectful, and that tempered my rage—but only slightly.
I was left alone in a room that felt far too large and far too quiet.
I didn’t go to breakfast that morning. My appetite had vanished, and I didn’t want to hear her name called out.
What even was the point of eating? What was the purpose of keeping my body on the precipice of life, when the edge of oblivion was so near? I was destined to die here, a fate I was no longer running from. I had accepted it fully.
Instead of eating, I wandered through the corridors until my feet brought me to Rowan’s door. I hesitated only a moment before I knocked.
The door opened a crack.
“Mavis?” Rowan’s eyes squinted at the light, and his voice was sleep-ridden.
I didn’t wait for an invitation—I pushed past him and into his quarters. I was beyond caring who saw.
“Where have you been for the last few days?” I asked, my voice brittle.
He had been absent for the past two days—no warning issued and no reason given. Typical Rowan.
He shut the door softly behind me. “I’ve been busy.”
I turned on him, anger and grief a volatile mix in my chest. “Of course. You can never give a detailed answer, can you? Only surface-level ones. Gods forbid anyone ever actually gets to know you.”
I let out a choked laugh. I felt the tears wanting to spring free, burning behind my eyes. But I was too scared to let them flow for fear of drowning in them.
His jaw tightened. “Is this really about my being gone, or did something else happen?”
I opened my mouth to speak—but the words dissolved. My knees buckled, and I broke. A raw sob escaped as my entire body folded in on itself.
“I found her,” I cried out, tears streaking down my face. “Talia. I woke up this morning, and she was just—gone.”
Rowan crossed the space between us in two strides and pulled me into his arms. I collapsed against his chest, gasping through the storm of my grief. His hands steadied me, one cradling the back of my head, the other wrapped tightly around my back.
“I didn’t want to be alone,” I whispered brokenly. “I didn’t come here to fight.”
He paused. “Did you come here to forget?”
“No, I came to feel.”
Rowan’s body relaxed as he pulled me even tighter into his arms.
“You’re not alone,” Rowan murmured into my hair. “I promise.”
He guided me gently to the small couch in the corner. We sat in silence for a long time, his arms wrapped around me as I buried myself in the warm safety of his chest.
After a while, my tears slowed. My breath evened out. I stared at the wall across the room, hollow and raw.
“When I lost my father,” I began, my voice low, “I was so angry. The kind of anger that consumes you and turns you into a stranger.”
I looked up at Rowan and saw that he was watching me, patiently waiting for me to continue. He looked as though he were absorbing my words.
“He took his own life, and I couldn’t understand it—couldn’t forgive it. I was just a child, and I didn’t know how to properly grieve for him.”
Rowan didn’t speak. He just held me tighter, letting me unravel.
“My brother had just been taken from us, too—my best friend. It didn’t feel fair for him to give up so easily while my mother and I were also going through the same thing.
It felt selfish, and I hated him for it—for leaving us and forcing me to grow up faster than I should have.
I shouldn’t have had to take care of my mother, but I did. ”
My shoulders tensed momentarily before I forced them to relax.
“But now…” My voice wavered. “Now I understand. There’s only so much a person can take before something breaks inside them. Something irreparable. It all becomes too much to bear. So, I get it now. That weight. That kind of grief.”
His hand shifted, his thumb brushing slow, soothing circles into my spine.
“Do you feel that way?” he asked quietly.
I paused, considering my answer. The air felt impossibly still.
“I’ve thought about it before,” I admitted. “In passing. When everything feels too heavy and suffocating. But I don’t think I could go through with it. Death will come for me like it comes for everyone. I know I’ll meet Anam at the end of my days—but I’m in no rush to greet him.”
Rowan pressed a gentle kiss to the top of my head. “We’ll make sure that day doesn’t come too soon.”
He couldn’t make that promise. My odds of survival were slim. I knew it, and he knew it. I already felt a stirring of something beneath my skin. But there was no point in arguing about it, so I said nothing. There was nothing to say.
I closed my eyes and let myself sink into the comfort of his presence. I never thought that the day would come when I was grateful for a Veiler. But I was.
He made me feel like maybe I didn’t have to face this darkness alone after all.