“Uh-huh. But Maria is different.”
“Maria grew up on the streets, like me. She’s the toughest woman I’ve ever met. Took me a long time to earn her trust, and even longer to get her to love me.” He hazards a glance at his shortened arm. “Now she’s stuck with a cripple.”
“She didn’t fall in love with you because you had two working hands.”
He gives me a knowing look. “Didn’t hurt.”
I snort. “No, I’m sure it didn’t. But—you’ve been through worse, yeah?”
“Yeah, I guess. Losing one arm ain’t much against losing two parents,” he says, his barrel chest rising and falling beneath the pilling, thick cotton blanket. “And my sister.”
I lean in and rest my head near his shoulder. “Tell me about them.”
“My family?”
“Yeah.”
“All right, sure.” He looks at me, smiling warmly. “Thanks.”
15
“Are you packed?”
Impatiently leaning on the door of my bedroom, Taylor inspects my room as I gather my belongings. With an unmade bed and a mess of reports scattered about, I’m sure she’s inwardly cringing at my lack of military tidiness.
“Don’t judge me.”
Taylor puts her hands up. “I said nothing.”
“Yes, but you don’t have to. I feel the judgment from here.” I shove a pair of socks into my bag. “Twenty-four years of having my messes picked up is not going to be reversed in a matter of months. Besides, I thought we had more time.”
Slated for at least a three-week convalescence, Theia approved Taylor’s discharge from the hospital after only two weeks. That was two hours ago. Since then, Taylor coordinated our entire trip to Target Four and scheduled our departure.
“But, yes, I’m finished packing.” I pointedly zip the duffel bag and heft it over my shoulder.
“Did you brief Summers?” Taylor gives my room one last grimace.
“Yup. She has my schedule and shadowed me for three days. Delilah trusts her.”
“Do you trust her?” It’s still jarring to remember someone cares what I think, and that it matters.
I nod. “She’s much more qualified to do this job than I was. So, yeah, everything will be fine.”
“Okay. Delilah asked to see us before we leave.”
Together, we head out of my room and through the door to the shared office. Inside it’s abuzz as usual, my former desk surrounded by four soldiers in quiet conversation. Delilah notices us through their bodies and smiles sadly. “Would you give us the room for a couple minutes?”
When the soldiers turn to inspect who interrupted their time with the de facto region leader, they immediately duck their heads. It’s odd to not be recognized as Luciana Piccolo, Region Leader’s Daughter. Or even recently, as the prisoner of their most esteemed soldier. Instead, these people see me as someone who helped them in a time of need. People whose names I know and lives in which I am invested, in the small way I can be. While there was some friction, especially with soldiers who grew up in my region, for the most part, I was treated fairly.
Once they’re gone, Delilah strides to us and places one of her hands on my shoulder, the other on Taylor. “I have auxiliary soldiers stationed along your route. Not technically my region, but if you need assistance, don’t hesitate to reach out.”
“Thank you for everything.” I place my hand on top of hers on my shoulder. “I hope we see each other again soon.”
“So do I, darling.” Delilah brings me in for a hug and gives me the last whiff of her cinnamon and citrus scent I’ll have for a long time. It comforts me and brings me inexplicable sadness. Delilah pulls back and tucks my hair behind my ear. “Take care of each other.”
“We will,” Taylor says, swaying from side to side. I know her leg is still giving her trouble, though she’d never admit it aloud. Without Mason, we will have to take care of each other. There is no one else.
“Good. Get going, girls. Be safe.”
