Page 131 of Stormbreaker

A hand circles my wrist, and a ribbon of fire licks up to my elbow.

I moan. I gasp.

Then darkness takes me again.

. . .

When I wake up, dim light is backdropped by the low sounds of beeps and whirs of medical equipment. I groan and touch my head with a wince.

On my other wrist is a thick bandage. I lift it up and blink, trying to remember everything that happened. They shoved me down the stairs. They told me to leave, ripped Teddy apart, and then tried to kill me . . .

A movement catches my eye, and I look over to see Rook sitting on the floor, leaning against another bed. He’s peering up at me with his wrists draped over his knees. I have to blink several more times to make sense of what I’m seeing.

The pieces of Teddy lie between his feet, and he holds a needle and thread dangling in one of his large hands. He’s already reattached one of Teddy’s arms and closed a rip in his back.

“You’re sewing him back up?” I whisper before instantly breaking into sobs.

My tears surface, flowing freely as I curl into a ball and cry hard enough to turn my rib cage inside out. Suddenly, Rook is there, his arms wrapping around me as he settles onto the bed, and I cry into his chest.

I cling to his shirt, and I just . . . let go. My throat is sore, and my lungs ache, but I can’t seem to make the tears stop. Distantly, I become aware of Dr. Perez in the room, but she keeps her distance while Rook holds me without a word.

Eventually, I succumb to a set of quiet sniffles and hiccups. I pull away to notice the dark stain on Rook’s shirt.

“Sorry,” I say, and he huffs out a small laugh.

“It’s okay,” he answers in a gentle way that nearly has me on the verge of crying again.

I try to smooth away the stain as if that will do anything, but after a moment, it seems more like I’m feeling him up. Mortified, I snatch my hand away, and he laughs.

It’s a genuine laugh. Bright and clear.

Not couched in derision or sarcasm. I like that sound. I like it way too much.

My fingertips remember his touch, burning like I’ve held them to a candle.

The moment ends, but I catch that single moment of joy in his eyes, and it flips my whole world around.

He’s always beautiful, but this is something else.

Dr. Perez appears before me. “How are you feeling?” she asks as Rook detangles himself from my hold, clearing his throat as if embarrassed to be caught in this show of tenderness.

The doctor checks the bump on my head and offers me a few more painkillers for my throbbing wrist. Rook returns to his spot on the floor, resuming his work piecing Teddy back together. I watch in fascination as he nimbly threads the needle and reattaches the bear’s leg with neat, even stitches

“Your X-ray shows a bad sprain. Should take about a week or two to heal,” she says before her gaze slides to me with a look I can’t fully interpret. “You’ve broken your arm before, though? In a few places?”

She says it carefully, like she’s trying to piece something together.

I sense Rook look up, watching our exchange.

Suddenly, I’m self-conscious.

My father. Can she tell what he’s done?

“I can see a number of old fractures,” she says, perhaps sensing my question, her voice turning to a whisper.

I shake my head. “Right. I’m sort of clumsy.”

She meets my eyes. “Should I report this?”