Page 274 of Bitter’s Sweet

Junie smiles.

I move toward Raven’s right hand. There is damage along two knuckles, minor but visible, so I set down one tool and reach for another.

Imaging ruled out a fracture, and Crypt says the sprain is mild. My wrist still aches when I overuse it, and a fading bruise circles it like a reminder. He's warned me not to push it while it heals. My cheek has gone from purple to yellow. My knees still complain if I kneel too fast.

Healing is ugly.

Apparently so is everything worthwhile.

The prep-room door stands open behind us because Mercy insists good airflow matters and because Hyde has turned the school into something between an educational facility and a small military occupation.

Two prospects rotate the hall. Nevermore handles the school-side lot. Crypt comes through twice a day pretending he has a medical reason to ask whether I am sleeping. CSI changed every code on the property.

Boogie complained so much about the new security that someone taped a paper eye scanner beside the clubhouse bathroom.

Under it:

RETINAL SCAN REQUIRED.

Boogie tried to use it.

Nobody stopped him.

Once CSI finally cleared Bitter’s apartment, Mercy retrieved my suitcase and the rest of my things. At least my clothes no longer live upstairs with my terrible romantic decisions.

Bitter is not part of my security.

That matters.

He could be. He is the enforcer. Nobody would question it.

Before all this, he would have planted himself outside every door I walked through and called it protection.

Now Hyde assigns somebody else.

Bitter does his job and leaves me alone.

It should be easier.

It is not.

I see him everywhere anyway. Across the lot. Near the garage. Carrying boxes from the funeral home. Talking to Ghoul by the bikes.

Once, I saw him through the school window with Boogie pointing dramatically at a coffin lid while Bitter looked like he was considering whether killing two men in one week would seem excessive.

He never comes closer unless I speak first.

Yesterday we passed each other near the old viewing room.

“Hi,” I said.

“Hi.”

That was it.

I thought about it for two hours.

My dignity remains medically fragile.