Page 147 of By the Moonbeam and the Mist
“If absolutely disgusted by this rat’s nest counts as okay, then yes.”
“Oh, thank God.”
I crouched to let Willa scurry up my arm and into my palms. She sniffled at me, her beady eyes peering at me in concerned assessment.
“I have walls to hide behind, Rayna, but you don’t—no matter how much you like to pretend you do. I should be asking ifyou’reokay.”
“I’m…” I tried to finish that sentence on a positive note, but the wordfinegot sniffed back up. I nuzzled Willa to my cheek.
From the doorway, Cilia whimpered, “I just don’t understand—why would they touchourstuff if they’re looking for Dazmine? And why are they looking for her anyway? She might be a bit…” Cilia wiped away a tear. “…standoffishsometimes, but…”
“Well, she obviously ran away,” Norman Pollard said beside her. “And running away’s against the rules.”
“But why would she run away?” Mitzi asked on his other side.
I held in a sigh. I had a feeling I would hear this conversation a lot over the next day, and I’d have to maintain a perfectly neutral face every time. I tried to practice that now as Cilia began to moan about her pillow again, and Mitzi offered to let her sleep with her tonight.
Emelle rested a hand on my shoulder.
“Do you want to stay with Lander and me, Rayna?”
I saw her eyes glance at her own ruined bed. Her birdfeeder laid on its side on the floor beside it, its seeds strewn everywhere. Not that she ever slept here anymore anyway, but tonight was out of the question.
“Yeah, I can Shift my bed into something bigger that would hold all three of us until we can get this room cleaned up,” Lander chimed in. “Or I could sleep on the floor while you two…”
“Oh, no thank you.” I straightened. Emelle removed her hand from my shoulder. “Don’t worry about it.” It was a kind gesture—one that I appreciated with a pang of something like homesickness—but I didn’t want to disrupt the routine Emelle and Lander had created together. And I certainly didn’t want to sleep in a bed that they’d made… memories in. “I’ll go ask Wren if I can sleep with her.”
Emelle nodded slowly, but both she and Lander were looking at me with something a little too shrewd, a little too sad.
“Rayna,” Lander said, surprising me with the insistence in his voice as he lowered it. “I’ve known you since I was a baby, but one memory really sticks out to me during our whole childhood.”
I looked up at him. “What?”
He adjusted his tie thoughtfully before speaking.
“When we were about five years old, my grandma was supposed to be watching you, me, and Quinn, but she fell asleep in her rocking chair a couple hours in. The three of us snuck out of my house to go play some street pentaball. Remember that?”
I nodded, though the memory was a vague one for me. I could have probably dug into my own mind—or Lander’s—to assess it properly, but I was too transfixed by the intensity of his gaze to do anything besides stare at him.
“You fell and skinned your knee,” Lander continued. “There was blood everywhere, but you refused to wake up my grandma and ask her for help bandaging it. Do you know why?”
“Why?” I whispered.
“You didn’t want her to feel bad for falling asleep on babysitting watch,” Lander said. “You chose to bleed until your wound scabbed over rather than cause someone else the slightest bit of discomfort by asking for help. And you’ve been that way ever since.”
Emelle nodded beside him.
“It’s okay to inconvenience people when you need help,” she said. “The people who love you will help you anyway, knowing that you’d do the same for them.” She gave that same sad smile.
I wanted so badly to tell them everything right here and now. The words were climbing up my throat, but… I wouldn’t just be inconveniencing them if I gave in to the urge. I’d be putting them in the exact same situation I’d put Dazmine.
“Okay.” I nodded. “Thank you. I’ll let you know if I need help with anything. Promise.”
Emelle nodded back, disappointment flickering in her eyes. “Well… see you tomorrow at the Testing Center?”
“See you tomorrow,” I told them both with a soft smile.
It was only after they’d left that Willa’s whiskers twitched in my direction. “What a missed opportunity. A Shifted bed sounds nice. You could have asked him to turn the sheets into cheese.”
