Page 69 of The Scars Within
“Scarlet?” Rhodes asked, his voice slicing through my pain.
I forced my eyes to focus on him, battling the swelling to see clearly. He was seated against the wall that casts deep evening shade—the spot he had claimed as his own. Rising from the ground, he closed the book he’d been reading.
I had no energy left; words eluded me. I felt myself swaying from foot to foot, balancing on whichever leg could support me in that moment.
I’ve worked harder to rebuild myself than most people my age. From a very young age, I learned how to survive and then had to do so on my own. I managed to keep myself fed, bathed, and content with life. I found a friend and discovered joy in the things around me. I built my backbone piece by piece.
And then I was broken. I was lost. I endured what would have killed most; every bit of the person I had created shattered and taken away from me. Everything I ever had was stripped away. Every spark of happiness was extinguished.
I’ve been to my lowest of lows. I’ve fought my biggest demons. I’ve survived.
And nobody even knows.
Rhodes stepped closer but still respected my personal space. I turned to him, meeting his gaze—one eye fully gray, the other fighting to be blue. The battle within his eyes was like mine, caught between who the world says I should be and who I strive to become.
His eyes lit up like a beacon shining through a hurricane.
“Who did this to you?” his voice dropped.
“I did,” I whimpered.
Confusion flicked across his face at my response before dissolving into a quiet understanding. Rhodes didn’t say another word. He just held his hands out to me, palms up.
It was then that I realized what I was running toward. To someone who also seems to be trying to find himself. To someone who will accept me no matter how lost I feel.
I laid my hands in his. My shoulders hunched with a rush of relief.
I can be myself with him. I do not have to pretend. I can laugh. I can joke. I can pull him onto a dance floor in the middle of an unfamiliar line dance.
Maybe it’s so easy to be myself because the beacon of his eyes tells me that I can fall apart a little with him, too.
“I didn’t want to wake up–” I rasped.
The bells rang louder than I’d ever heard at Mageia, stealing my words. His hands tightened on mine in silent question, and I nodded.
Rhodes rushed to the parapet, peering down with a tense expression. “Shit,” he whispered, then quickly returned to me, opening the iron door and standing back to let me through first.
“Something bad has happened,” he said apprehensively.
Chapter 28
As Rhodes and I reached the bottom of the stairway, we were immediately swept up in the tide of cadets surging through the hall. While we had been on the rooftop, the cadets who had taken leave had returned to Mageia. Rhodes placed a steady hand on my shoulder to keep from losing me in the crowd.
The stream of cadets funneled into the auditorium, where we all filed into rows of seats. Rhodes took the seat to my right. I scanned the sea of faces, searching for Shayde, but he was nowhere to be found. The bells continued to ring, though no one had yet explained why.
Rhodes nudged my arm and gestured to the right. Laney, Tatum, and Cleo had turned in their seats a few rows down, trying to get my attention.
“Are you okay?” Laney mouthed, her expression filled with concern.
I sent her a reassuring thumbs up.
As Cleo turned back to face the front of the auditorium, she flashed me a peace sign with her pointer and middle fingers. Tatum winked playfully, flipping her long black ponytail over her shoulder.
War Chief Kalluri then approached the podium at the center of the stage, raising a hand to quiet the room. He shifted uneasily, his weightshifting from one foot to the other. His grip on the side of the podium was so tight that his knuckles had turned white.
I leaned over to Rhodes and whispered, “What do you think is going on?”
He tilted slightly closer, his voice low and tense. “I’m not sure, but it can’t be good.”
