Page 87 of The Blood Rites

“I can’t believe Callen left us. He told me he would look out for me. But he left us—he left me. I thought he meant it when he said those things, you know? But when it mattered, he wasn’t there.”

I try to think of something reassuring, but after everything we've seen, the words feel empty.

“Maybe he was scared,” I offer. “I don’t think anyone here is as brave as they pretend to be.”

She gives a small laugh. “I think he’s just ashamed. He said some horrible things to you. He didn't even apologise.”

She wipes her nose on her sleeve and looks directly at me. “At least you’re not pretending to be something you’re not.”

I open my mouth to protest, but she cuts me off. “Don’t. I know what you’re going to say. But you’re wrong. You are the bravest person here.”

I look away, my throat tightening.

Footsteps echo down the hall, and for a second, I think it’s an Overseer come to revel in our misery. But it’s Callen.

He stands at the threshold of the alcove, broad-shouldered and backlit, so his face is lost in shadow, his pale blue eyes a dull grey.

He doesn't move to join us. He just stands there, arms crossed, his whole body radiating discomfort.

“I’ve been looking for you,” he says, voice grainy.

“Well,” Marissa answers, not bothering to conceal her annoyance. “You’ve found me.”

He shifts, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I just wanted to say sorry. For before.”

“For which part?” she snaps. “For leaving us on our own back there, or for letting me believe that you cared?”

Callen winces. “I do care,” he says, but quieter now. “I just—I couldn’t—”

“Couldn’t what?”

She rises to her feet, her tiny frame shaking.

“You promised you'd protect me,” she says. “Did that suddenly stop mattering because of him?”

His face turns slack, eyes darting to me for just a second before settling on something behind me. “It’s not that,” he says, but the lie is brittle.

Marissa’s shoulders deflate and she lets out a sob so small I barely hear it.

“Go away, Callen,” she says. “You’re a coward.”

“I’m—sorry,” he says as he turns and walks off down the hall. He almost says something else but thinks better of it.

After he’s gone, Marissa stands frozen, fists balled at her sides, breathing fast and shallow.

I place a hand on her shoulder. She doesn't pull away, but she doesn't lean into the gesture either.

“What if I can’t do this?” she asks, but it’s so soft I have to bend to hear it.

“You can,” I say, wishing I sounded more convincing. “You already are.”

Her voice is small, teetering on the edge. “I don’t think it will be enough.”

She leaves me there, disappearing around the corner and vanishing into the maze of corridors. I let her go. Nothing I could say would make this better.

Kael finds me in the silence after, emerging from the shadows like he was hiding in them the whole time. He stands a few paces away, his face unreadable.

“Did he hurt you?” he asks.