Chapter 1
MARA POV
I knew my sister was dying before the healers were brave enough to say it.
They had been lying to me for hours, though perhaps they thought calling it hope made the lies kinder.
The room smelled of bitter herbs, smoke and sweat, and every surface seemed to hold some failed attempt to keep Elara alive. Glass bottles crowded the small table beside the bed, their contents ranging from cloudy green to a dark red that looked too much like blood.
None of it had worked.
I stood beside the bed and watched my sister struggle for every breath.
Elara had always been impossible to keep still. Even as a child, she had slept like she was fighting someone in her dreams, kicking off blankets, stealing pillows and somehow turning sideways across the mattress before morning.
Now I would have given anything to see her move.
Her dark hair clung damply to her forehead, and her face had gone so pale that the freckles across her nose seemed darker than usual. Every breath came slowly, with a soft rattle that made something inside me twist tighter each time I heard it.
Master Corren stood at the foot of the bed with his hands folded in front of him.
He was avoiding my eyes.
That was how I knew.
“Say it,” I told him.
His mouth tightened.
“Mara.”
“Say it.”
I hated the careful silence, the lowered voices, the pity already creeping into their expressions. They had begun treating Elara like someone who was no longer in the room.
They had all lied to me. From the moment they stepped into that room, they knew there was no saving Elara, yet they kept pretending otherwise, dragging out every treatment and every useless remedy while squeezing as many coins as they could from my father.
Elara had been ill for a long time, and for most of it, my father had clung to the hope that she would recover. But when she slipped into a deep sleep that no voice, touch, or remedy could wake her from, something in him seemed to break. Eventually, he stopped coming into her room altogether. Then one morning, he walked out of the house, and I haven’t seen him since.
Master Corren finally looked at me.
“We’ve done everything we can.”
I couldn’t look away from my sister. The once-happy little girl with stars in her eyes was now ghostly pale, as though half of her had already slipped from this world. I crossed the room slowly and sat beside her bed, then took her hand in mine. Her skin was cold and clammy, and the feel of it sent a chill through me that had nothing to do with the room.
Then Elara whispered my name.
“Mara.”
Everything else disappeared.
“I’m here.”
Her eyes opened slowly.
They were unfocused at first, then settled on me.
“You look terrible.”
A laugh burst out of me before I could stop it.
“You look worse.”
“Rude.”
“You’re dying and you’re still annoying.”
“Good.”
The smallest smile touched her mouth.
“I’d hate to become pleasant now.”
My throat tightened so sharply it hurt.
“Don’t talk.”
She blinked at me.
“You’ve spent days telling me not to give up.”
“This is different.”
“Bossy.”
“Insufferable.”
“That’s better.”
Her fingers moved weakly against mine.
For one foolish moment, I convinced myself the healers had been wrong.
She was speaking.
She was smiling.
She was still Elara.
That had to mean something.
Master Corren stepped closer.
“She needs to rest.”
I looked at him.
“Then leave.”
“Mara.”
“All of you.”
He hesitated.
I rose.
“Get out.”
“Mara, I only meant—”
“Get out.”
The younger healers began gathering their things.
Master Corren held my gaze for a moment longer, then lowered his head.
“I’m sorry.”
I looked away.
The door closed behind them a few minutes later.
Silence settled over the room.
I returned to Elara’s side.
She was watching me.
“You scared them.”
“Good.”
“I thought I was dying.”
My hand tightened around hers.
“You’re not.”
She looked at me for a long moment.
Then very softly, she said, “You bite your cheek when you lie.”
I stopped immediately.
Elara smiled faintly.
“Still terrible at it.”
“At what?”
“Lying.”
“I’m not lying.”
“You’re doing it again.”
I looked away.
She was right.
Of course she was.
Elara had always noticed the things I wanted hidden.
When our mother died, she had known I was afraid before I had admitted it to myself. When our father disappeared into grief and drink, she had watched me pretend everything was under control and said nothing until I finally broke down in the pantry.
She had been nine.
I had been nineteen.
I had been the one who was supposed to protect her.
That was how it had always been.
“Mara.”
I looked back.
Her expression had changed.
She looked frightened.
I could survive her teasing.
Her fear nearly destroyed me.
“I don’t want you to be alone.”
“I’m not going to be.”
Another lie.
Elara knew it.
Our mother was gone, and my father had never truly been the same after losing her. Once Elara was gone too, I knew there would be no coming back from it for either of us. I couldn’t imagine staying in this house, surrounded by rooms full of memories and reminders of everything I had lost, but I didn’t think I had it in me to leave my father behind either.
Elara squeezed my hand again, so faintly I almost missed it.
I looked down at her. Her eyes were already half closed, exhaustion pulling heavily at them, but there was a small smile on her face.
“It’s going to be okay,” she whispered. “I’m not scared.”
I swallowed against the pain tightening my throat and forced myself to smile back at her.
“Good. Why should you be? You’re going to be fine.”
Her breathing had begun to slow, each breath softer than the one before.
“I’ll be with Mother.”
The tears came before I could stop them.
“Shh,” I whispered, brushing the hair back from her face. “You need to sleep.”
She gave the smallest nod.
“Love you.”
“I love you too.”
Her eyes closed, and within moments, sleep seemed to take her.
I stayed there for a long while, watching the slow rise and fall of her chest as though I could keep her breathing simply by paying close enough attention. Eventually, I lowered my head onto our joined hands, the cold weight of her fingers still wrapped in mine.
The sound of her breathing became the only thing I listened to.
Somehow, with her hand still in mine, I fell asleep too.
