She set the tray on the edge of the bed carefully, like even the mattress was fragile.
“I made your favorite,” Carnie told Clove, her voice soft but practical, like she was trying to keep herself together by doing something normal.“White chicken chili.Something told me this morning to make it.”
Her gaze flicked toward me.“Probably the same feeling that Ender had to go look for you today.”
Clove let out a breath that almost sounded like a laugh, almost sounded like a sob.“Thank goodness for weird feelings,” she murmured.
Carnie moved in and hugged her again.
Clove’s arms came up automatically, returning it, but I could see the way her shoulders tightened at first, like her body still didn’t trust closeness, even when it was love.
“I’m okay, Mom,” she said gently.
Carnie pulled away, eyes wet, and sniffled hard.She wiped her nose with the back of her hand, like she was annoyed at her own tears.“I know, honey,” she whispered.“I was just so worried about you.”
“I got away,” Clove said, like she needed to remind herself as much as her mom.
Carnie’s mouth trembled into a smile.“That’s because you’ve got your father’s fight in you.All I gave you was good taste in food.”
Clove huffed a small laugh.
Carnie glanced between us and cleared her throat.“Uh… I guess we’ll just let you eat.”
She started to turn, then paused and reached for my arm, clearly intending to herd me right out of the room.
I didn’t move.
Not until Clove’s voice cut through.
“He needs to stay.”
Carnie froze.
So did I.
Clove’s cheeks went a shade darker, and she tucked her hair behind her ear again, like she could hide behind the motion.
“I, uh, just…” she started.
Carnie’s whole face softened.“It’s okay, honey,” she said quietly.“Whatever you want.”
She moved toward the door, then stopped and looked up at me, her voice dropping to a whisper that was meant only for my ears.“Keep her safe.”
I nodded once.Not because I wanted to reassure Carnie, but because it was the closest thing to a vow.
“I’ll bring you a tray too,” Carnie added, already turning away like she needed to keep moving or she’d break down again.
She left the door open.
The hallway light spilled in, soft and yellow.
For a second, the room was still.
Clove stood near the bed, soup steaming in front of her, looking like she wasn’t sure if she deserved it.Like comfort felt suspicious.
“I don’t mean to make you do something you don’t want,” she said quietly, eyes flicking to me.“I just…”
“You don’t need to explain,” I told her.My voice came out low, steady, the same tone I’d used in the woods when she’d been shaking in my arms.“I’d much rather be right here, too.”