Page 164 of Requiem
“Finnick thinks we should do something this summer.” I glance toward the ocean beyond the windows. “Not touring, or anything. Nothing huge.” My thumb drags slowly against one of the strings. “Maybe just one event to see how people respond.”
Emma stays quiet, letting me continue at my own pace.
“Echos said she’d join us.” I exhale softly. “There’s this organization in Portland that helps struggling artists pay for housing while they’re in school. Music, acting, dance, all that.” I swallow once. “I thought maybe we could raise money for them.”
“You’d be really good at that,” she says quietly. “And…Echos? Are you serious? She has the voice of a literal siren.”
I nod, glancing back toward her again and find her already looking at me.
That look again.
The one that says she still sees me, loves me, wants me. Even after everything.
Emma disappears briefly down the hallway before returning a minute later carrying a plate. The smell of chocolate, butter, and warm bread hits me.
My eyebrows lift. “Are those chocolate chip croissants?” I ask, my heart clenching. I suddenly remember before Moscow, how she made some for me when I was still struggling.
“I almost burned the first batch.”
“You’re still better than me,” I grin to myself when I think about how our fun banter is returning. It’s taking a while, as she’s become a different person through this, too. But it’s happening. And it sometimes feels like when we first fell in love.
She snorts softly as she walks toward me before carefully lowering herself beside me on the floor. Even now, months later, she still favors her side slightly when she moves too quickly.
My gaze flicks there automatically, and she notices.
“It only hurts sometimes now,” she says gently. She sets the plate down before reaching up to touch my face, fingertips brushing against the stubble along my jaw.
I lean into her touch, and her expression melts. Then she picks up one of the lyric sheets resting near my knee.
I tense. “Don’t judge me too hard,” I mutter.
“I would never.”
Her eyes move slowly across the page while silence settles around us again, filled only by distant ocean waves and the sudden sound of Nova sneezing. I smile at the simplicity of this evening. I’m no longer terrified of receiving a text message that ruins everything. Or a man beating me almost to death with cruel words.
Then Emma’s breathing catches, and I look up to see her eyes watering.
“You like it?” I ask quietly.
She nods, pressing her lips together like she’s trying not to cry. “I love it. What’s it called?”
I hesitate for a moment. “Falling Star.”
She bites her lip, tilting her head. “That’s beautiful, Jude.”
Emotion swells in my chest. Before I can answer, my phone vibrates against the floor beside me. I reach for it, seeing a text from my sister glowing on the screen.
Vanessa
Driving down from Portland tomorrow morning. Mom keeps crying already lol. Dad’s pretending he’s calm, but he’s absolutely not. I can’t wait to see you again.
My throat tightens constricts.
Emma watches my expression carefully. “What is it?”
For a second, I just stare at the message. Three months ago, I genuinely believed I would die in Moscow. And now my sister is driving down the coastline to see me in the morning. Life is fucking strange.
It’s beautiful, terrifying, fragile…but beautiful.
