It looked too much like farewell.
Rhen bent closer.
“No. You don’t get to do that.”
Her hand rose unsteadily and brushed his cheek.
The touch barely carried enough pressure to register.
“Rhen…”
He caught her wrist before it could fall.
“You don’t get to leave us. Sule is coming. You stay until he gets here.”
Leena’s gaze held his.
There was no fear in it now.
Only recognition.
The calm certainty of the one person who had always looked at him and insisted there was something inside him besides death.
Her fingers slipped from his.
The medic’s head lifted sharply.
“I’m losing her.”
“No.”
Leena’s body slackened against Rhen’s arm.
Her final breath left her in a quiet exhale.
Her heart stopped.
The absence of it struck Rhen harder than any impact ever had.
The medic pushed him aside.
“Move.”
He did not.
“Rhen, move!”
Mary pulled at his shoulder while the medic began compressions. Rhen released Leena only because some broken remnant of reason understood that refusing might cost the medic the seconds needed to bring her back.
He stood beside the bed.
Blood covered his hands.
His forearms.
His clothes.
The medic worked.
