And it had been… incredible.
Her magic had been quiet this morning, humming softly in her veins. As if it, too, was at peace.
River paid the taxi, keeping her coat wrapped around herself as she bounded up the steps. The clawfoot tub in her bathroom was calling her name, and she was already dreaming of the bubble bath she would take.
She would enjoy every second of her tiny vacation because she didn’t think Doctor Collins would let her have another one for a long time after this.
That thought should’ve upset her, but it didn’t. She’d spent the taxi ride planning ways to spend time with Nik back in Lakewater. They could get to know each other more deeply, away from the watchful eyes of her family. Daydreams of watching sports games on the couch when she was off, of sleepovers, dates, and movie marathons, occupied her so thoroughly that she didn’t notice the shift in the air at first.
No, it wasn’t until she’d taken off her scarf and bounded halfway up the stairs that she registered that something was wrong. The air, which had been filled with the steady hum of hospital equipment for nearly two decades, was silent.
There were no beeps, no whines, no whirring. There was nothing at all, except for a low, ragged sound that was so foreign, River didn’t recognize it at first. She stood on the stairs, her fingers clenched, as she listened intently.
Several seconds passed before she heard it again, coming from the east wing. Her father’s wing. A keening sob filled the air, the low sound as sharp as any dagger.
No.
No, no, no, no, no.
For the longest moment, River stood there, frozen in thegrips of time. Even her magic seemed to hold its breath, trying to understand what was happening.
Maybe it was in her head. Maybe she hadn’t heard it. Maybe this was a dream, and she was still in Nikhail’s arms, and she’d wake up and everything would be okay.
Maybe, maybe, maybe.
There were so many maybes swirling through her mind that she remained there, a statue on the stairs, until another sob ripped through the air.
And this time…
This time, River knew it was real. It wasn’t a figment of her imagination. She slipped her phone into her pocket, her fingers trembling.
That sound…
Her mother was crying, and if she was here and not at the disaster Nikhail had been called to, if she was sobbing and the hospital machines had been turned off…
River’s arms fell slack at her sides. Her purse fell, sliding down the stairs. There came a clatter as her keys tumbled out of her bag, but she didn’t bother to turn around and pick them up. She raced up the stairs and turned left, running as fast as she could.
She ran and ran until she got to her father’s room, where she skidded to a stop. Her heart thundered in her chest, and her eyes burned as she gripped the doorframe with white-knuckled hands.
“No,” she breathed.
How could this be happening? She’d been here last night before leaving with Nikhail, and her father had been fine. His vitals had been steady, the nurses had been looking after him, and his heart had been beating on its own.
But now…
Now, Cyrus’s empty eyes were staring at the ceiling, his hands were folded over his stomach, and all the machines were off. Tertia had thrown herself over his body, her hands were gripping his shoulders, and she wassobbing.
River stared into the room, took in her father’s lifeless eyes, and shuddered. For the first time in years, she didn’t use her mother’s given name. She didn’t look at the Representative, wondering why she hated her.
She just whispered, “Mom?”
The word felt foreign on her tongue, nearly as foreign as the sound of her mother’s grief.
Her mother lifted her head, and tears streamed down her face. For a moment, her eyes were devoid of the hatred they usually held, of the anger, cruelty, and malice River had gotten used to. For a moment, they were nothing but pools of deep-seated grief.
The Representative opened her mouth, but no words came out. Her eyes slid to Cyrus, and she lifted a shaking hand.
“Mom?” River asked again, her voice trembling.