Page 86 of Twilight Tears

His mouth is still covered in tape and tubing and I want so badly to yank it out and talk to him. Instead, I sit next to his bed and grab his hand.

“Hey, Nik.”

He can’t respond, but his fingers tighten around mine. He squeezes my hand like a pulse again and again. His eyes flare wide.

“They’re fine,” I tell him. “Mariya and Luna—they’re both fine. Everyone is safe.”

His hand relaxes. He sinks back into the mattress. Then his eyes slip closed and he falls asleep.

I stay for hours. Sometime in the night, Dr. Tung and a few nurses remove the tube from his throat. They tell him not to speak, which is made easier by the fact that Nik can’t stay awake.

“He’s been asleep for months,” I say as Dr. Tung tries to tell me this is normal. “How much more sleep could he need?”

“It’s the best medicine the human body can get, trust me,” she says.

I consider calling my mother and telling her the news, but I don’t want to get her hopes up. Every time Nik closes his eyes, I’m half-convinced they aren’t going to open again. There’s no need to tell anyone about this until I know it’s going to stick.

I sit by his bed all night, watching him slip in and out of consciousness. He responds more and more strongly to the sounds of nurses coming and going, but he still won’t speak.

“I’m here with you,” I tell him every time his eyes snap open. He always looks vaguely panicked, but it passes quickly. “I’ve been here the whole time, brother. I’m not going anywhere.”

My ass is numb from sitting in the shitty recliner by the bed for so long and my neck aches from sleeping at an odd angle. But sometime in the late morning, I finally fall into a fitful sleep.

As soon as I do, I’m jolted awake by shouting.

I stand up and spin around, looking for the threat, before I realize Nik is shouting. His voice is hoarse, but he’s slapping his hands against the bed like he’s trying to swat a bug.

“Nik!” I shake his arm. “Nik, what is it? You’re awake. You’re okay.”

He turns to me, eyes wide and wild. “I’m not okay,” he rasps. “I can’t feel my fucking legs!”

37

LUNA

I’m covered in goosebumps, shivering under a blanket that could double as tissue paper.

I don’t need to open my eyes to know where I am. I recognize the damp smell. The distant sound of men’s voices leak through the cracks in the walls. I don’t know how long I’ve been here, but I know there is no escape. There’s a hollowness in my chest, a hopelessness I can’t find my way out of.

I’m going to die in here.

When a hinge squeals, I snap my eyes open. The room around me is dark. I raise my hand, but I can’t see my fingers in front of my face. I can’t see anything.

“Hello?”

My voice echoes like I’m in a cave.

I slide to the edge of the mattress, but when I stretch out a leg to touch the floor, there’s nothing there. Just empty air.

“Hello?” There’s a frantic edge to my voice now. I hear it like it belongs to someone else. Each word echoes back to me. “Who is there?”

I hear footsteps getting closer and closer, but I can’t even feel the floor. Some part of me knows if I jump off of the bed, I’ll be falling forever into darkness.

I curl up at the back of the mattress, the cement wall against my back. The footsteps grow louder and louder.

Then, a wicked smile lights up in front of me.

It shifts, growing and morphing and changing. As I blink, the face behind the smile comes into focus and a normal, flesh-and-blood man is in front of me.