Page 58 of Embers

The sun is getting lower in the sky when Faith comes into my room with dinner for me. A bowl of stew and a big chunk of bread. I only know the time because she insists on opening the curtain every morning so I can see the shift of light and shadows as the days progress.

I push myself into a sitting position and force down as many bites of the food as I can. I don’t want any of it, but Faith made the effort to bring it to me, and I don’t want her generosity to be for nothing.

Plus she’ll nag me if I don’t eat.

“Grant and Olivia showed up today,” she says, pulling the stool from the corner of the room and sitting on it next to the bed.

“Really?” I don’t feel like chatting, but I make a point of responding to her. I might be pitiful. Unforgivably weak. But I’m not going to be an ass to someone who’s been so kind to me.

“Yeah. They brought us another solar generator. The extra power will be a huge help in grinding the wheat. You can’t imagine how much time it saves us from having to use a hand-crank grinder to make all the flour we need.”

“Oh, that’s really good.” Grant and Olivia are part of the bunker community. They spent the five years after Impact underground and only came out of lockdown this summer. They still have power. Air and water filtration. Medical equipment. The bunker was attacked last month, and a bunch of folks from around here gathered to take it back. Cal and I helped with that fight. It’s one of the good things we’ve done this year for other people. It meant a lot to me, and I thought it did to him too.

She eyes me discreetly. “Olivia wanted to come say hi to you.”

I swallow hard. “Oh. Okay.” The last thing I want is another visitor, but I also don’t want to say no.

“Maybe tomorrow.”

The most I can respond is with a nod.

We’re silent for a few minutes. I take a few more bites of stew. It’s actually really good, but my stomach can’t handle much right now.

The next time I glance over, I catch an expression on Faith’s face. She’s usually controlled and matter-of-fact, rarely showing what she’s feeling. But I must have caught her unaware because I see a flash of something stronger than impatience. It’s angry. Hotly resentful.

It makes my heart drop into my gut. “I’m so sorry, Faith. I’m sorry I’m being so pathetic. I’m really trying to get it together. I can leave anytime you need me to.” The only place I’d have to go is Cal’s cabin. I’m sure he’s not there himself since that would be the most obvious location to find him. So I could go back there. Live there all by myself.

It sounds like an utter nightmare.

She frowns, her eyebrows pulling together. “What are you talking about?”

“You looked like you’re getting frustrated with me.”

“What? No way!” She pauses, evidently searching her mind for what caused my comment. “Oh no, Rachel. It wasn’t you I was thinking about just now. It’s not you I’m angry with.”

“Then who—”

She gives me a speaking look.

“Oh.”

Cal. She’s angry with Cal. For some reason, this upsets me even more. “It’s not really his—”

“Oh yes, it is his fault. It’s entirely his fault. I know you love him and still want to protect him, but I hope you can see that much. He did this to you.”

“He thought he was—”

“I don’t care what he thought he was doing. I don’t give a fuck if he believes he’s some kind of selfless martyr, giving up the woman he loves for her own good.” Her voice is ice cold. Harder than I’ve ever heard it. “Leaving you like that was the very worst thing he could have done. Fucking selfish asshole.”

“He’s not really like that.” My voice is broken. My eyes are burning with tears. “He’s a good—”

“No, he is not. He’s not.” She meets my eyes and doesn’t look away. “A good man doesn’t walk out on the people who love him. The people who trust him. The people who rely on him. The people he’s supposed to protect and take care of. A good man doesn’t do that—not for any reason. A good man would never have left you.”

It’s too much. Way too much. My shoulders shake with stifled sobs.

“I’m not going to forgive him for that. None of us will. He’ll never be allowed to set foot through our gates. Not ever again.”

For some reason, her harsh proclamation makes everything realer, starker. I wipe at my face with my hands.

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