Page 162 of Bone Year

“I saw her,” he murmurs.

“Cael, you’re tired. The medication⁠—”

“I saw her last night.”

I furrow my brows. Is he confused? Delusional?

“Tenth floor.”

His voice has gone thin. He coughs, turning his head to the side, trying to take in a breath. I grab a damp cloth from the bedside table and clean his face. I pat his forehead.

“You are not on the tenth floor, Cael.”

I fold the cloth and rest it atop his head.

“I went last night.”

His eyes are closed. I squeeze his hand again.

“How? What?”

“I told her to leave it alone.” His voice is the thinnest I have ever heard it. “I should have told her to run.”

If he isn’t delusional, I’m afraid.

“Run from what? From whom?”

He starts coughing again. “Promise me.” His eyes meet mine and widen slightly.

“Promise you what?”

I lean in closer.

“Promise me you won’t go to the tenth floor.” He swallows. The effort is enormous. “When the moment comes, you’ll know.”

I have no idea what he means, but his eyes roll back, and he starts breathing heavily again.

“Cael—”

His eyes find mine one more time. The brightness flickers up, faint, and the man I have sat with all year is in there for one more second, looking at me, and I see him see me, and I am going to remember this look in his eyes for the rest of my life.

“My girl,” he whispers.

“Cael, you are going to be⁠—”

His chest crackles.

His breathing stops.

The room goes completely silent.

Poppy lifts her head from his stomach and looks over at me. She makes a small sound that is not a chitter. It’s something I haven’t heard her make before.

I kneel down and lower my head to the side of the bed.

I sob into the blanket, and Poppy crawls over to me.

After a few minutes, the mender comes in. She looks at me and stands by the door, waiting.