Ryker glanced at the clock. “In just over an hour. Is that enough time?”
River chewed on her lip. “It’ll have to be.”
Even if she had to drag herself through every step, she’d make herself presentable. After all, this was for her father.
After another hug, Ryker left. River slid out from under the covers, the air biting her skin, and she plodded to the bathroom and stepped into the shower. She washed quickly, but that didn’t stop goose bumps from pebbling on her skin. She was shivering by the time she got out and wrapped herself in a towel.
A fog settled over River as she went through her routine. She straightened her hair, applied her makeup, and placed a pair of plain black pumps by the door.
Then, when she could put it off no longer, she turned to the wardrobe, took a deep, grounding breath, and counted backwards from ten.
You are a doctor, River reminded herself.You’ve held lives in your hands. You are powerful and strong. You can do this.
Even the prohiberis cuffs couldn’t completely silence the remnants of power running through River’s veins. Shewasa storm, and she should be able to handle this. After all, it was one day. One afternoon.
But she didn’t feel strong or ready for this at all. Not a text from Nikhail, a simple “I’m thinking of you today,” which had come in at five this morning, was enough to give her strength to tackle this.
She didn’t think there were enough mantras, pep talks, or positive affirmations in the world to make this any easier. But she didn’t have time to fall apart.
River’s hands trembled at her sides as she took wobbly steps towards the wardrobe. There was a thundering in her chest that echoed in her ears as she opened the door.
Hanging in front of her was a simple black dress. It had long, sheer sleeves, a square neckline, and a slight flare at the waist.
The worst part of the dress wasn’t the lack of color, but the fact that it had been hanging in River’s closet for years,untouched. She’d bought it with a singular purpose in mind, knowing that she would only wear it once.
River swallowed down a sob and reached for the dress, removing it from the hanger. The fact that it was here meant that someone, probably Brynleigh, had retrieved it from Waterborn House.
Once again, Brynleigh was proving her thoughtfulness. It meant a lot, since River wasn’t sure she’d ever be ready to go back to her childhood home. It contained too many memories, too much pain.
River slid the dress over her head, hating the way the fabric felt against her before reaching behind her back to do up the zipper. The hemline settled just above her knees, and the dress was snug around her bust. Not too tight, but a gentle compression. A hug, almost. One that she desperately needed.
Sliding her feet into her pumps, River moved to the full-length mirror hanging on the back of the bedroom door.
She barely recognized the woman looking back at her.
Her face was paler than normal, the gold studs in her pointed ears shockingly bright against the expanse of her skin. Red rimmed her eyes, even though she hadn’t wept today. Her sleeves reached her fingers, the black silk partially obscuring the manacles. To the untrained eye, they might appear like an interesting fashion choice, nothing more, but River knew the truth. She could feel it in her bones. Even if the prohiberis cuffs had been weightless, she’d never forget what they signified.
Her failure.
This wasn’t the time to think about that or her curse, though. She had a memorial service to attend and a father to pay her final respects to.
With one last look in the mirror, River left her room. She took the stairs one at a time. The mood was somber, the air as heavy as her soul.
Brynleigh was standing at the island, wearing a black dress that fell just below her knees, and she turned as River approached. A compassionate smile tugged at her lips.
She handed River a buttered piece of toast. “I didn’t know if you’d be hungry, but I thought this might help.”
River eyed the offering. She wasn’t hungry, and she hadn’t been for days. Honestly, she could barely remember what it felt like to crave food. But having undergone years of medical training, her brain understood the importance of nutrition. Unable to ignore that part of herself, River accepted the meager breakfast with a soft smile of her own.
The toast was tasteless, but she dutifully ate it. After Ryker came downstairs, they filed into the car. Ryker drove, and Brynleigh sat beside him in the front seat. River took the back, pressing her face against the glass and watching the snowy landscape pass in a blur. Forests gave way to subdivisions, and before River knew it, they were driving down a busy city street.
“Where is the memorial taking place?” River asked, her voice seeming to boom in the quiet car.
She hadn’t even asked. It was something she should’ve known—something a good daughter would’ve known. She should’ve been the one to organize this. Instead, she’d lost control, and the duties had fallen onto others.
Even more proof of her brokenness.
Ryker’s fingers tightened around the steering wheel, he drew up his shoulders, and the air thickened. The air pulsed, thick and heavy, as he regarded River through the rearview mirror.