Page 11 of Ruled By Fate

Brie looked at him, looked at the girl, then grabbed the key off the counter and stomped off towards the stairs, limping defiantly, though it was no longer necessary.

Maybe I am dead. Maybe this is punishment for killing my plant.

? ? ?

Five minutes later, she was in a shower, letting the hot water stream over her and wash away the dirt, blood, ash, and trauma from the past few hours. She raised her head and let out a long breath.

What the hell just happened to me?

She shut the thought down firmly.

Not now. For now, she was going to treat herself with a bit of kindness and care. And that meant focusing on nothing but the water — the sweet, wonderful, warm water.

Water that started to run cold.

She sighed, shut off the faucet, and toweled off. Thank goodness she’d had an extra set of clothes in her backpack, or who knows what outdoorsy, flannel monstrosity she’d have been forced to purchase from what passed as a gift shop in this place. She slipped on some white cotton shorts and another of those too-strappy yoga shirts Sherry kept impulse-buying for her.

Oh, God. Sherry.

She needed to call her. She needed to call her dad. She needed to call the police, or the fire department or some government agency to tell them about the heap of rubble that now constituted what remained of her first and only car. The thought caught her off guard, and the image of the trusty car turned into a burning mass of metal, brought a lump to her throat.

She gripped the sides of the sink and sucked in a deep breath.

Keep it together, Brie, she thought. What would Dr. Rogers say? Acknowledge the feeling without endorsing it. She considered this another second, then shook her head. Therapists.

She took another few deep breaths and raised her eyes to the mirror. She pinched her cheeks to put a bit of color back into her face and combed out her long, dark hair as best she could before sweeping it into a high ponytail with a hair tie she’d managed to find at the bottom of her backpack.

Much better.

Now, time to go into the next room and see if my angel has disappeared into thin air again, leaving me to wallow in therapy-supervised confusion for another five years.

She hesitated a moment with her hand on the doorknob, suddenly realizing she was terrified of precisely that. More than the accident, more than all those burning questions, it was the sudden isolation that she feared. To be left alone again. To doubt her own mind.

Whether he’s there or not, I’m alive. I’m going to be okay.

She took a steadying breath, then opened the door slightly too fast to be normal.

He was sitting on the bed, surrounded by a bizarre array of foods.

“It’s grilled cheese and tomato soup,” he declared with a flourish, rising to his feet and crossing to the window. “Your favorite when you don’t feel well.”

Her face went blank. An ancient air conditioner buzzed beside the window.

“Or that’s… that’s probably not right.” He faltered for a moment, then gestured to a bowl heaped with sour gummy worms. “I also got a few of the sugar insects you like. I didn’t know how many might constitute a meal, so I got them all.”

He glanced up again, beginning to panic. “There’s also cheese?”

Perhaps it was because he’d phrased it as a question, but she crossed over to the bed, took the grilled cheese and tomato soup, and sank amongst the cushions. The gooey triangles had been pre-cut. She dipped one of them into the steaming bowl and took a bite, savoring the taste. “This is perfect. Thank you.”

His eyes brightened with a flash of unrestrained delight before he hastened to control himself. It wasn’t until she’d gotten halfway through the sandwich that he allowed himself to speak. “You should drink some water.”

She lifted her eyes slowly, staring at him.

He blushed, if an angel could blush, but held her gaze. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to press. After a trauma, mortals are always telling one another to hydrate. I’ve heard it so many times, I just…”

He backtracked quickly at the look on her face. “Or perhaps you’d like to drink from a can? I got all the colors.”

Only then did she notice the tower of carbonated beverages in the corner of the room. Unnerved, she put down the plate and crossed her arms and legs, studying him once again.

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