Page 91 of Ashes of Honor

I took an awkward step back, “I’m coming in,” I said, cracking it open. No protests came, only silence. Suckerpunch and Harley rushed the doorway at my entrance, tails thumping against the only portion of the floor not covered in various rugs. I gave them both a tap on the head then stepped inside, shutting the door quietly.

The room was once Prescott’s personal library. His collection was vast, ranging from literary greats, to a weird amount of books about birds. Similar to Amaia, Elie had insisted on keeping Prescott’s presence here strong and adding their own touches here and there instead.

Heavy orange curtains hung across the large wall to ceiling window, her twin sized bed shoved right in front. Mix matched patterned pillows were tousled across the bed, resting against the wall and the plants lining the window-pane. They matchedthe vibrant colored oriental rug that spanned most of the wooden floor. A floor that was now covered in torn pages from Prescott’s precious books.

In the center of it all sat Elie, knees to her chest, chin resting on top. Her light blue jeans were darkened with tear stains, streaked through with old coffee splatters from her shift in The Kitchens.

“Love what you’ve done with the place,” I said, leaning against the door.

“Oh, screw you.” She didn’t look up.

I pushed off the heavy oak and into the room, lowering myself onto the floor beside her. Harley wandered over and flopped down belly-up. Elie’s hand moved instinctively to swipe her fingers through the dark as night fur.

“We gotta talk about this, Elie,” I said.

“No, we really, really don’t.”

I sighed and leaned back on my hands. “I mean, sure. If you want to stay angry at the world and end up like me, be my guest.”

“What’s so bad about that?” she said, finally glancing my way.Ah. There it was. That hint of defiance in her red-rimmed eyes. “You seem relatively well-adjusted.”

“Relatively,” I admitted with a shrug. “It works when you’ve got someone like Amaia in your corner. But when you don’t? It’s a lonely, miserable existence.”

“There’s no point. She’s just going to die too.”

The moment they left her lips, my veins ran cold, every ounce of warmth ripped away. “Don’t say that.”

“It’s true,” she snapped back. All ferocity and malice, but also, fear. “You think she’s invincible? Just wait until she leaves the gates with Riley. The second things go south, she’s gone.”

I stared at her, forcing myself to see the child that was hurting standing in front of me and not someone purposelyantagonizing me. Hitting a spot they knew would hit deep. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“You came intomyroom and botheredme.”

“Yeah, because Amaia and Riley care about you. It’s killing them to see you like this. It’s killingall of us.”

“Drama queen.” She rolled her eyes, pressed off the floor and onto her bed, sitting cross-legged against the wall.

I stayed where I was and turned my body to face her. “Your life doesn’t suck. Grow up. People die, it’s an apocalypse, and we’re stuck in some made-up community inside a made-up territory with a piece of paper everyone calls an alliance, which means jack shit when someone like Ronan Moore exists.”

Her expression shiftedto one of horror as she leaned back against the window. A pillow reached its tipping point, taking a small plant with it as it tumbled into a mess of dirt on her colorful quilt. The dogs perked up, their eyes sweeping the surroundings before settling back down.

“What’s wrong?” I asked with bitter sarcasm. “I’m only saying the quiet part out loud. That’s what you were thinking, right? I get it.”

“Do you?” Her voice cracked but her eyes stayed locked on mine. Angry. Hurt. Sad. Guilt. All of it lingered there, fighting for a brief moment to shine, to allow her to grieve what she had already lost and what she feared could be taken next.

“No.” I stood up and took a seat next to her on the edge of the bed. “I gotta be honest, kid… If I had the support that you do, at your age, I wouldn’t be the shithead I am now.”

She didn’t respond. Her fingers worked at the edges of her nails, pulling at the cuticles, her gaze fixed downward. I recognized the habit. The need to do something, anything, to keep from unraveling completely.

“Life sucks, and then you die,” I continued. “That’s the only guarantee you get. Theonlypromise in everyone’s life. But how you deal with the bullshit while you’re stuck on this floating rock? That’s up to you.”

Her shoulders sagged, the fight draining from her frame. I waited, watching as she swallowed hard, the tremor in her hands barely visible.

“At first, I was angry. I mean, I’m still angry, just not as much. Now I’m sad. Kind of confused. But mostly, I think … I think I’m mourning the realization that I was never enough,” Elie said, her voice broke on a choked sob. “She left us. My mom. She decided Dad was never coming back and in the same breath took away our mom. And then Rex left too. He checks in on me every few days, but he’s not the same. He’s … not here. Not really present.Refusesto talk about anything of the past. ‘Forward thinking only.’ I feel like I don’t even know who he is anymore. My brother—he doesn’t get it. He doesn’t see how much I need him, and that … that makes everything so much worse. Last year, I had a mom, I had a dad, and I had a brother. Now? I have none of that. Four months ago, I had Prescott. He was the one who helped things make sense when Amaia wasn’t here. Now he’s gone too.”

I gave her a moment, letting the tremble in her voice settle. She wiped her nose with the back of her hand. I didn’t speak. Didn’t try to fix it. Because there was no fixing this.

“You know, all I can think sometimes is how selfish they are.”

---