Now, when she passed folks, she wasn’t just on guard for her belongings. She was scrutinizing them, wondering who was colony-born… and who was Rhymarran. There was always somewhere to huddle away on these space stations, and she passed a few lived-in sections occupied by people who couldn’t afford apartments. That had been a fact of life growing up, but now, she couldn’t unsee Amelia’s sad little tent.
Even that was downright luxurious compared to this.
Torian set her jaw, shoving her hands in her pockets. She wanted to help, but it was dangerous to offer on Colony 13—even Celise kept to her clinic instead of roaming the halls. She skirted a group of clearly drunk folks, one of whom was staring hungrily at her. Torian glared back, moving at a brisk pace. They didn’t follow, and she counted it as a blessing.
But it wasn’tallbad. Amidst dodging the locals, she saw hints of families making a life here—drawings scribbled on the metal walls, a child’s toy left discarded, the laughter of folks through thin front doors.
Despite the environment, there was hope here.
Torian was proud to represent that.
She finally reached their old apartment, now advertised with metal lettering that simply read “clinic.” An open/closed sign that hung from a bolt by the door had been flipped toClosed. An overgrown orange zinnia was in a metal pot beside the door—her sister’s pride and joy. It wasn’t flowering yet, but tiny buds were attempting to sprout.
This place was home, and Torian felt a sudden sense of sadness. Once she collected Celise and they moved to Vaesa, there would be nothing to tie her to Colony 13. To the memories of her parents, their childhood, their future aspirations.
But it was their last option. She’d rather pour a drink with Celise and reminisce over their old home than watch her sister’s ashes floating past the airlock, vanishing into space.
Drawing a fortifying breath, Torian rapped on the door.
“I’m closed,” Celise called through the thin door—and then dissolved into a round of coughing.
Shit.
“It’s me, Lise. Open up.”
A pause, where she was clearly attempting to get the coughing under control. Torian held her breath, heart pounding. Would this really get better with cleaner air… or was Celise just destined to struggle until a coughing fit killed her someday?
Torian couldn’t handle that thought. Vaesahadto work.
The door opened, and Celise leaned against the doorway, one eyebrow raised. “Well, well. My sister, the starbound pilot.” Her voice was hoarse, dripping in sarcasm. “Your timing is—” A cough, an attempt to clear her throat. “—is impeccable, as always.”
Torian snorted. “Well, you know. That’s my specialty.” She hugged Celise, but not so tight as to restrict breathing. Her sister always had a comforting scent that Torian couldn’t describe, but she inhaled deeply and felt her nerves settle.
Celise pulled away first, locking the door as Torian ventured into the apartment. The living room had been transitioned into her clinic years ago, with a cot along one wall, some medical equipment scattered about, and a desk where she reviewed records. The kitchen was in an adjacent room, and Celise waved her into it.
“Surprised to see you back so soon,” Celise said. “I thought the exams took a month or more.”
There was weight to her tone. Disappointment… but also relief. They both knew what it meant that Torian was standing in this room.
Failure.
Torian ignored the subtext. “Oh, I just couldn’t stay away.” She offered a teasing grin, to which Celise rolled her eyes. When Celise stayed silent, still waiting for more, Torian diverted. “Everything okay while I was gone? Business is good?”
Areyougood?was what she wanted to ask, but didn’t dare. Not yet.
“Well, no one visits a clinic when they’re feeling fine. But it’s been somewhat steady.” Celise took a seat at the tiny table, rubbing her fingers over the spot where Torian had slammed a fork onto the metal and dinged it as a child. She drew a slow breath, coughed a bit, and made a face. “Sorry. Inhaler is hit or miss this week. I had some minor injuries, a few illnesses. One kid ran straight into a wall while playing and needed stitches.”
Torian poured herself a glass of water, leaning against the nearby countertop. “Shit. Was he okay?”
“Yeah. Kids bounce back.” Celise leaned back in her chair, quirking one eyebrow. “Cut the shit, Torian. Did you make it to Rhymarra, or did your alien starship break down halfway there?”
“No, no. It broke down halfway back.” Torian paused. “Well,andhalfway there.”
Celise stared, deadpan. “I can’t tell if you’re kidding.”
“I’m not. But it’s fine now. We fixed it.” Torian drew a slow breath, then took a sip of water to prepare herself for the next sentence. “I got to Rhymarra. Spoke with Headmaster Nuun.”
“And?” Celise’s tone was cautious now.
