Page 61 of The Girl Who Inherits the Dead

She shivers, even though it’s warm.

“You need to eat way more,” he says, his eyes half closed, staring off into nothing. “You will have a blood sugar crash soon if you don’t.”

“Alright,” she says, then opens the bag of chocolate chips with one hand and pops some into her mouth. “That’s doable.”

“You’re so low energy,” he says, distant, “if anyone tried to scan you right now, they’d think you were completely normal.”

“That’s good, right?” Delina says, resisting the urge to pull back her hand so she can hug her knees into herself.

“No, it’s very much not good, it means you’re defenseless,” Maison says, snapping back to full attention, but keeping the grip on her hand. “Just…”

He sighs, and with the paleness of his face and the circles under his eyes, it’s like the last few hours have aged him.

“You stepped in front of me,” Delina says, softly, after a few moments of silence pass under the harsh fluorescent lights.

He nods, circling his thumb on the back of her hand.

“That would’ve been a convenient way to get out of your problems,” Delina continues. “Nobody would blame you if you didn’t protect me now.”

He looks up at her, really looks at her, like he can see all the way through her, and a thrill half akin to fear spirals up her spine. “I would blame me.”

It’s so close, so close to some sort of confession, something she so desperately wants to hear that she has to blink back tears in her eyes. She always cries at inopportune times, and this would be among them.

“Aww, no, Delly,” he says, and his voice breaks. “Don’t…” He tugs her into a hug, one of his wonderful hugs, wrapping his arms around her on the cold concrete floor, surrounded by gold spray paint and her dead mother’s old research. “Don’t cry.”

“I’m not,” she declares, before burying her face into his chest, right where she can hear his heartbeat.

It beats strong, perfectly in rhythm, and new tears well up in her eyes.

He strokes back her hair, gentle, as she shakes apart, real tears spilling over her cheeks, as everything in the last few days catches up to her, all at once. At the letter, the betrayal, the stares, the strangers in the house, the bio-trap, and Maison actually fucking dying, everything.

“You’re okay, I’m okay, it’s okay,” Maison whispers, and she clings to him, to the clean hoodie and the still soreness in his lungs. “You’ll get through this, you’re going to live and figure this out.”

It’s not quite what she needs to hear, but she can’t bring herself to say anything, just cries.

Some time later,when her tears have subsided but she can’t pull herself away, someone clatters down the stairs and Maison abruptly stiffens. All the warm comfort, all the soft touchesand gentle arms around her, immediately transforming into something foreign.

“All clear,” Chloe’s voice says, and Delina tugs herself away, sitting upright. “Oh good, you’re awake.”

Her tone suggests it's anything but good.

“And the forest floor?” Maison asks, deeply skeptical.

“Let's just say, any plant biologist would absolutely lose their shit if they ever did any research, and someone will have to let you in and out every time you want to leave for a bit.” Chloe looks past him at Delina’s ruined makeup. “Are you feeling okay?”

The answer is no, but she shrugs.

“Of course she doesn’t, she hit burnout on her first time using her powers in any substantial way, nobody would feel okay after that.” Gurlien steps down the stairs after Chloe, and a startlingly purple bruise mars his cheekbone and his eye is half swollen shut, but he crosses his arms at them. “Have you told her she was stupid yet?”

“I told her she was lucky,” Maison responds, standing up, and his eyes still flash red.

“That’s a nice way to put it,” Gurlien says, then nods at Chloe. “Go ahead and let him out of this one.”

Delina watches as Chloe sketches something midair, and the curve of the circle closest to her blurs.

“Is it safe for me to leave?” Delina asks dully, her head now good and truly pounding like it always does after she cries.

“Should be,” Gurlien says, voice deeply skeptical. “That was insanely stupid of you.”

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