Page 99 of Bone Year

“They were boxing her things and sending everything to her family.” He sets the journal on the bed beside my hand, not quite touching me. “I didn’t think she’d want them to have this one.”

Nella’s journal. Her fears. Her dreams of flying again. Every small, ugly, honest thing she never said out loud, now here because Draven walked into a dead girl’s room and took it before someone else could.

For me.

I pick it up, and my hands are shaking and the tears come before I can stop them.

“Why?” I gasp. “Why would you do this?”

He doesn’t answer, watching me cry.

“Draven.”

“Get some sleep.”

“Thank you.”

He stops. His hand grips the door frame. I can see the tension in his back, the war he’s fighting with himself.

“Don’t thank me.” He doesn’t turn around. “And don’t mistake this for something it isn’t.”

“What is it then?”

“You lost a patient. That happens here. But what you did after…” He turns enough for me to see his profile. The hard line of his jaw. The muscle jumping in his cheek. His hair, half tied up in a bun. “The drinking. Malric, destroying whatever you had with that boy who actually loved you.”

I flinch at the past tense.

“That’s not grief, Rose. That’s self destruction, and I’ve seen where that road ends.”

“Maybe I don’t care where it ends.”

“You should.” He faces me fully now. His amber eyes are blazing, but his voice stays steady. “Nella is dead. That won’t change. Drowning yourself in alcohol and letting Malric use you won’t bring her back. Won’t fix what you broke.”

“You think I don’t know that?”

“I think you knew it and did it anyway. That’s what worries me. Tomorrow, get up, go to class, and keep moving. The world doesn’t stop turning just because you’re in pain. And neither do you.”

“What if I can’t?”

He looks at me, and something passes between us. Recognition maybe. The kind that only comes from knowing the same kind of darkness.

“You can.” He rubs at his forehead. “I know you’re better than what I saw tonight, so prove it.”

“How do you know what I’m capable of? You don’t even know me.”

“I know enough.” He finally opens the door. “And Rose?”

“What?”

“If Malric touches you again, I’ll kill him.”

He says it like a promise. Then he’s gone.

I lie in the dark, Nella’s journal clutched to my chest, his voice echoing in my mind.

He meant it.

I don’t care if he does kill him.