Chapter Forty-Seven
Rosalie
When the door finally clicks open, I hold my breath. Luna stumbles in on shaky legs, her hair tousled and knotted, and her clothes half hanging off her frame. The worst of all? Her eyes.
They’re dead. No light. No warmth. Nothing.
Her legs buckle, and I stand abruptly, tossing my pillow aside as I run to her aid. I crouch down, my hands hovering over her as she stares at the floor with unblinking eyes.
“Luna—”
“DON’T TOUCH ME!” She screams, shoving me away with so much force that I hit my ass and the air is knocked out of me.
I blink in surprise at her, watching as she curls her shaky arms around her abdomen and tucks her head. She’s gasping for air, her tears falling to the floor as she sobs.
Silver comes into the room with a blanket in her hands. She lays it across Luna’s shoulders before guiding her up. The redhead hums lightly, a soothing tune like a lullaby, as she helps situate the blonde on the bed.
“Don’t take it personally,” Silver says low.
More women gather by the door, their faces downcast and their eyes filled with worry as we watch Luna disassociate. The air is heavy and thick, and no one moves an inch.
Luna starts to get color back in her cheeks as her crying quiets, and she sniffles roughly. “Everyone, this is Rose.”
There are a few murmured ‘hellos’ as the blonde gathers her strength. When she turns her head towards me, my chest pangs at what I see. Another piece of her soul is broken.
“I’m…” She gasps, her face twisting. “I’m sorry I pushed you.”
I shake my head. “Don’t apologize.”
The tension cracks a fraction as a woman with dark curls outstretched a hand for me.
I take it, standing. They each take turns introducing themselves to me.
There’s Charlotte, Quinn, and Kourtney added to the mix of faces.
Charlotte is the woman with dark curls and bright blue eyes.
She’s quiet, but warm as she speaks in a soft tone.
Quinn has silver hair with overgrown dark roots and heavy bags under her eyes.
Kourtney is the oldest with long, pin-straight brown hair.
She’s the most outspoken among the group as Cara and Bridget linger behind the crowd.
Cara’s expression is twisted with remorse, while Bridget doesn’t seem like she’s present as she stares above everyone’s heads.
Light conversation fills the room before Silver makes a decree that everyone should return to bed. As the last few people trickle out, Luna sighs deeply before she buries her face in her hands.
“I can go—”
“Don’t,” She whispers. “Please.”
I’m transported back in time to the night I woke up at Charlie’s house, curled up on her lap. The comfort she gave me in that moment meant the world to me. It showed me that there was still good out there—something worth hanging on to.
As I cut the lights and Luna lies down on the bed, I want to be that comfort to her. I slide in beside her, covering us with the duvet before I rest my hand between us. I don’t have to speak for her to know what I’m offering.
As the seconds trickle into minutes, she finally reaches across and takes my hand. I squeeze her tight, praying that my protectors have figured out what’s happened and will save us all from what awaits us tomorrow.