Page 5 of She Walks with Broken Things

Not really.

It was fear.

Fear dressed up as anger.

As excitement.

Pretending to be anything but what it really was.

I pushed the covers back and sat up slowly. My leg cramped immediately. A dull ache spread through my hip like a warning. They needed me. I dragged a hand down my face, forcing myself upright. And just like that⁠—

I stepped into the war.

Melantha stood outside my door when I opened it, her hand curled into a fist at her side.

“Mel?” I murmured, glancing past her toward the chaos spilling through the hallway. “You okay?”

“I’m too fat.”

I frowned. “What?”

“The dress.” She lifted tear-rimmed eyes to mine. “It won’t fit.”

I stepped closer, shaking my head. “What are you talking about? We got your measurements. Have you even tried it on?”

She shook her head. “No.”

I rubbed her arm gently. “Then how do you know?”

Her lip trembled. “I…I just know.”

Crash!

I closed my eyes for a second.

They were going to tear the place apart.

“Go back inside,” I said softly. “Go, just give me two seconds. We’ll try it on together, okay?”

She hesitated.

“It’s going to fit, Mel I promise it’s going to fit and you’re going to look beautiful in it.”

“Do you think?”

“No.” I shook my head. “I know.”

Her breath hitched. “Okay.” She whispered. “Okay.”

I left her there as another door slammed somewhere down the hall, the sound of someone crying bleeding through the walls.

Vivienne appeared at the far end of the corridor, her eyes wide, frantic—searching until they found mine. “Help me.”

I needed to pee.

Badly.

But I held it and followed her.