EMBER’S POV
“Eat something first—”
“I will. After.” I won’t, and she knows I won’t, and she lets me go anyway.
I find the medical wing by following the smell of antiseptic, and I get there just in time to catch the worst possible thing, which is them rolling her in.
Rayana.
On a gurney, wheeled fast and careful by two people in scrubs, an IV pole rattling beside her, a tangle of tubing, a monitor already ticking out the small green proof that she’s still here.
Her platinum hair is spread against the pillow and her face is slack in a way I have never once seen it, all the clever wit and dramatics, gone.
She looks small. Rayana has never in her life looked small.
“Wait—” I’m moving before I think, reaching for the gurney rail. “Rayana — can I just—”
“Stay back, please.” A nurse, kin
