Page 3 of Realm of the Wicked

I squeezed Grace tight, ignoring how bony her shoulder felt, and the way her ribs pressed into my side. She was too thin. ‘It’s easy when I have you as my best friend.’

We found our way to the parking garage in comfortable silence, the way it had always been. I opened her car door, waited until she had strapped herself in, and climbed into my seat.

Slipping my sunglasses on, I turned to her with a smile. ‘Emotional support tacos?’

Grace smiled back, my entire world sealed up into a too-frail body. ‘Emotional support tacos.’

Tacos wouldn’t cure Grace. They couldn’t fix my broken heart. But they were better than nothing, and right now, nothing was all we had.

After a lunch of too many tacos, and terrible reality television – our guilty pleasure – I tucked Grace into bed, just like I had when she was a kid. She turned on her side, curling up into a ball like she’d done since we were younger. It was funny how little we changed as we grew. The most important parts of us were hammered in stone, and the rest… well, the rest really didn’t matter.

I pushed a stray bit of golden hair away from her face, so like my own, and yet, so different. I favored my father in looks, my features bold, sharply outlined like a rough charcoal drawing, while Grace took after my mother, delicate, and fine-boned.

Taking her out after her doctor’s appointment probably wasn’t the wisest choice, and our emotional support taco excursion had drained her completely. But I knew coming home to mope wouldn’t have helped either of us. I probably coddled her too much. I was just so desperate to protect her from as much of the bad as I could.

Sitting on the edge of her bed, I watched her. Maybe she had always been too perfect for this world. Maybe, I knew it all along.

Archie, my white Maine Coon, leaped on the bed next to me, curling up along Grace’s leg. I smiled, stroking him. ‘You’re a good boy protecting her, aren’t you?’ I whispered.

Eventually, he was going to be all I had left. He purred as if he could hear my turmoil.

‘Stella?’ Grace sat up, looking at me with sleepy eyes.

I patted her leg. ‘You should be sleeping.’

‘I’m worried.’

I smiled, wishing I could take away any fears and anxieties she had with nothing more than a single word. Unfortunately, life didn’t work like that. ‘What’s got you worried?’

She chewed on her lip. ‘I’m worried what will happen to you when I’m… gone. I don’t want to leave you all alone. I don’t want you to be mad at the world.’

My sister was dying, and she was worried about me. Life was twisted.

I tamped down the feelings boiling to the surface. ‘You don’t need to worry about me. You just need to worry about you. Besides, I would never be alone. I have Archie, and my friends at work, and Mrs Mullins, and⁠—’

‘Promise me you won’t give up.’ Grace clutched at my hands, stronger than she had seemed in weeks. ‘Promise me that after I’m gone, you won’t give up. You’ll keep living life, and you’ll do all the things we talked about doing before I got sick. Tell me you’ll go scuba diving in the Maldives. You’ll hike the Inca Trail. You have to, for me.’

‘Grace, you aren’t gone, you’re right here, and we should focus on that. We could plan a trip to Bora Bora together…’ I trailed off, unsure of how to console her without lies.

‘That’s bullshit and we both know it.’ She narrowed her eyes. ‘Promise me, damn it.’

A beat of silence passed between us.

‘Promise me you’ll go see the Northern Lights.’

‘Grace…’

Her expression didn’t change.

I sighed. ‘I promise.’

Her face softened. ‘Thank you.’

She released my hand, curling back into a ball, and within minutes was snoring quietly. I watched her for a moment more, hoping the promise I made wouldn’t be broken. That list we made together felt like a different lifetime altogether.

Getting to my feet, I kissed her forehead, and walked out of the apartment, locking the door behind me. I’d stop in on our neighbor Mrs Mullins on my way out and ask her to check on Grace with her spare key.

My hands were tied in a hopeless situation. No matter which way I looked at it, I had already broken a promise. I needed to escape before I fell into my grief over breaking another.