It slows to a pace where I can see the particles in the air.
I don’t speak. I can’t manage to form a coherent thought, let alone an intelligible sentence. Ambrose never even met my father. The written assessment was never going to be enough to land me in that Veil uniform.
Something I now understand but refused to acknowledge then.
“Nori,” Finnley calls. His hand lands on my arm, and I raise my eyes to meet his.
“What else did he say?” I ask, my voice slightly breaking.
Finnley sighs. “Not much. It sounded like Tainey was on the verge of tears, and Ambrose told him he’d better pray he doesn’t have to come back.”
No one but my mother knows who my father is. She never even told me. Regardless of how many times I asked, she never told me. The only information I could peel out of her was that he was a fellow soldier, whom she mistakenly gave her heart to, and he broke it. It’s been a massive void in my life—the feeling that a part of my identity has always been missing—and it’s my fault. I’m the reason he left. I’ve been reminded of the fact numerous times throughout my life. But why would Ambrose say these things to the professor—especially behind my back?
I feel like I’m going to puke.
“Are you okay? You look a little pale,” he says through the pressure in my skull.
I slowly nod.
Am I okay? No. Definitely the opposite of okay, but I’m not putting that on him.
A slight frown appears on his lips, and concern swims in his eyes.
Breathe, Heathen.
I inhale sharply.
“What’s wrong?” Finnley asks, leaning in.
I shake my head. “Nothing,” I answer. “Nothing, I’m fine.”
Get out of my head, Henchman!
A dark laugh vibrates through my skull.Henchman? I like it. How adorable that you’ve given me a nickname. And one so fitting.
I squeeze my eyes shut.Shadows. Burning candles. Blood.
A little blood never scared me,he says in a low, throaty hum.
Ugh.
At least you’re breathing again.
GO AWAY!
A dark laugh resonates before I’m left to my own thoughts again.
Finnley grabs my hand. “Nori, you good?” he asks with a worried look on his face.
“All good,” I reply quickly. Too quickly. “I hate to leave, but I’ve got something I have to do.” I stand quickly, push the chair in, and head for the door.
“No worries,” he calls after me. “Catch you later?”
“Absolutely,” I answer, turning to look at him.
Our eyes meet for a second. There’s something in his gaze—soft, quiet, almost resolute. Not an apology, not exactly. But something. I’m not sure what I see in those turbulent eyes, but I turn and leave. I don’t have the luxury of dissecting another mystery at the moment.
The stone walls of the dimly lit hall feel like they’re closing in around me. I stare at the flicker of flames in the candelabras along the passageway, wishing I could snuff them out and sink into the floor. The sound of my heavy footsteps vibrates through the walkway. I came here to become the best version of myself I could. A Veil to rival my mother’s expectations. To fight in the same regiment as her and finally showcase my worth.
