Page 3 of This Cruel Fate

Seven years later — Year 1018

Tick, tick, tick. The second hand in the old grandfather clock moved forward with a distracting loudness that Xolia clung to. The steady tick pushed out the oncoming dread of never seeing her therapist, Krista, again.

For her part, Krista appeared unperturbed by the repetitive noise and said, “I’m so proud of you. You’ve grown so much since our first session.”

A half-smile tugged at the corner of Xolia’s mouth. “You’re sure I don’t need at least four more sessions?” She took in the pale-pink chair that Krista sat in, the coffee table between them, and the simple but cluttered desk behind Krista. It was familiar, safe.

“We’ve been over this,” Krista said. It was true, the ending date for Xolia’s court-mandated therapy had been set a year ago during her last rehabilitation check. “And you don’t want me to recommend more sessions. Your random checks are ending, so you are no longer under an obligation to take your suppressants so long as you don’t use your powers illegally.”

There is that. “Still, I’m just not ready for things to change again.” Xolia shifted in her seat. Even after talking to Krista for the past seven years, there were still barriers that were hard for Xolia to break down. A side effect of trauma, as Krista had explained to her.

Krista smiled and pushed her graying hair behind her ears. While she glanced at her notepad, Xolia noticed how deep the lines and wrinkles were around Krista’s soft brown eyes. Her therapist gone and gotten old while Xolia looked more or less the same. Xolia would live three of Krista’s lifetimes before succumbing to old age.

“Not all change is bad, though. You had your interview two, three days ago?”

Xolia nodded.

“And how did it go?”

“I think it went really well,” Xolia said. “But even if I don’t get it, I enjoy what I do.” Her insides squeezed at the words. Xolia desperately wanted that promotion, but happy people didn’t get sad if things didn’t go their way. And that was what these past seven years had been about—being happy.

Krista quirked an eyebrow. “What, you still aren’t harboring hope of being a senator someday?”

“Those were Silas’s plans for me.” Xolia shrugged. “These are the plans I’m making for myself.” That had become her mantra once she was able to grapple with the fact that Silas betrayed her and FAR. That he had only ever acted out of his own self-interests rather than for the freedom of variants.

At the mention of Silas’s name, that easy smile dropped from Krista’s face. “Speaking of Silas, there’s something I think we should talk about together before parting ways.”

“What?” Xolia’s heart stuttered. She thought they had laid conversations about Silas to rest years ago.

“This information isn’t public yet, but I want you to be prepared when it breaks,” Krista said. “Silas was killed in prison a few days ago.”

Everything in the room stilled. The clock ceased ticking and Xolia stopped breathing. Xolia found herself nodding, though she didn’t know why. There was a difference between understanding his betrayal and expecting him to go through a trial for his crimes than to hear he was dead. It was easier to hate him when he was alive, easier to remember every cruel and callous thing he had ever done to her. But dead? All the good memories surfaced. His paternal role in her childhood.

Closing her eyes, Xolia focused on her breathing. In. Out. Repeat. I am living my own life now. Not Silas’s. Finding some semblance of calm, Xolia opened her eyes.

“I know it’s a pretty heavy topic to bring up on our last day together, but I’d rather you hear it from me than the news. You’re safe here,” Krista assured her. For Krista to offer her that olive branch of acceptance, that knowledge that despite of who Silas had been, he was still important to Xolia, eased some of the sharp hurt.

That was enough for her. Rubbing her eyes of unshed tears, Xolia shook her head. “I’m fine.”

“Should you choose to continue therapy you could always get specialized grief counseling. It won’t hurt forever,” Krista said, sympathy softening the edges of her mouth.

Xolia said nothing, did nothing.

Krista shifted in her seat. “We still have some time together. Is there anything else you want to talk about?”

“Thank you.” The words were out of Xolia’s mouth before she knew what she was saying. “For everything, I mean. I wouldn’t have gotten this far without you.”

“Give yourself some more credit. You put in the work to change your mind and your life.”

It’s my life, it’s my life, Xolia repeated to herself. “I guess.” She was powerless to stop change, just like she had been powerless to stop Silas. But she could control her emotions. Losing Krista wouldn’t break her, she was still going to be happy for this new life that she had created for herself.

“Are you sure you don’t want to talk more about Silas?” Krista asked.

“I’m sure.”

By the end of the session, Xolia had managed to lock away lingering sadness about Silas’s death and the fear of an unknown future without Krista. Xolia thanked her again before leaving the simple office that had so integrally defined her first years in a post-rebellion world.

Making her way to the nearest subway stop, Xolia shouldered past the throngs of people that were always present in the downtown business district of Atalia. A long and stuffy subway ride later, she emerged to a less crowded side of the city.

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