And with just my own mind as company once again, I’d pictured about a thousand potential problems, all of them amplified by the coldness left behind by our fractured connection.
I’d tried to reach out several times. Yet I’d heard nothing in reply. I felt disconnected. Cut off.Lost.
Just breathe, I told myself.It’s… it’s okay.
But it wasn’t okay.
It wasn’t okay at all.
Blood Day is tomorrow.
The thought sent ice through my veins, the sensation making me rigid as a series of beeps sounded inside my room.
Incoming call. I pushed myself upright, my spine stiffer than usual as I forced a bland look on my face.
Advisor Livia appeared on the white wall beside my bed, the screen one that typically lit up during our meetings.
“Prospect,” she greeted, her gaze veering slightly right as though reading from another monitor. “You will be departing from the front gate in one hour on bus seven. Your assigned seat number is fourteen. There will be no speaking or socialization of any kind, not even during tomorrow’s ceremony.”
Her eyes drifted to mine, her bored expression matching her voice.
“Do you have any final questions?” she asked, her tone indicating that I shouldn’t have any inquiries and that it would be unwise to waste her time with more words than necessary.
“No, Advisor Livia.”
“Good. Bring your white graduation robe. And don’t be late.” The screen switched off, causing my heart to skip a beat.
Cedric,I whispered.Advisor Livia says I’m on bus seven. I’m leaving in an hour.
Nothing.
Just silence.
My stomach twisted.He’s not coming.I could feel it with every grain of my being.Something bad has happened.
Or…
Or he never really cared.
No. No, that's not right. He cares,I promised myself.He… he definitely cares.
But if something had happened to him, then he wouldn’t be able to care at all.
He could be dead. Or hurt. Or… or I didn’t know where or what. And that uncertainty manifested all sorts of morbid scenarios in my mind, all of which were driving me crazy.
Cedric.I tried to put some force behind it.
No reply.
Again.
A chill danced down my spine.Something is very wrong. He’d warned me that he would have to cut me off, but this cold wall felt too permanent.
How were we supposed to communicate? How could I keep him updated?
How can I tell him where I’m going?
Did he already know? If he did, why hadn’t he warned me? Why wasn’t he telling me what to expect?