Tears, much weaker than the others, flowed down my cheeks in silence. Her hostility toward me simmered in my mind.
Abruptly, the pain in my bruised, twisted back was too much. The straw on the camel.
“Ung,” I grunted, pushing against stone and cardboard as I shoved myself backward.
I didn’t care about the noise anymore, I just wanted out. I swore to myself that I would never cross the threshold of this wretched pit again—death first. Literally.
It was harder to worm out than it had been to dive in. I wiggled and squirmed around until I felt like I was making things worse, bending myself into the shape of a lopsided pretzel. I started to cry again, like a child, afraid that I would never get free.
Melanie sighed. Hook your foot around the edge of the mouth and pull yourself out, she suggested.
I ignored her, struggling to work my torso around a particularly pointy corner. It jabbed me just under the ribs.
Don’t be petty, she grumbled.
That’s rich, coming from you.
I know. She hesitated, then caved. Okay, sorry. I am. Look, I’m human. It’s hard to be fair sometimes. We don’t always feel the right thing, do the right thing. The resentment was still there, but she was trying to forgive and forget that I’d just made out with her true love—that’s the way she thought of it, at least.
I hooked my foot around the edge and yanked. My knee hit the floor, and I used that leverage to lift my ribs off the point. It was easier then to get my other foot out and yank again. Finally, my hands found the floor and I shoved my way through, a breech birth, falling onto the dark green mat. I lay there for a moment, facedown, breathing. I was sure at this point that Jared was long gone, but I didn’t make certain of that right away. I just breathed in and out until I felt prepared to lift my head.
I was alone. I tried to hold on to the relief and forget the sorrow this fact engendered. It was better to be alone. Less humiliating.
I curled up on the mat, pressing my face against the musty fabric. I wasn’t sleepy, but I was tired. The crushing weight of Jared’s rejection was so heavy it exhausted me. I closed my eyes and tried to think about things that wouldn’t make my stinging eyes tear again. Anything but the appalled look on Jared’s face when he’d broken away from me…
What was Jamie doing now? Did he know I was here, or was he looking for me? Ian would be asleep for a long time, he’d looked so exhausted. Would Kyle wake soon? Would he come in search? Where was Jeb? I hadn’t seen him all day. Was Doc really drinking himself unconscious? That seemed so unlike him…
I woke slowly, roused by my growling stomach. I lay quietly for a few minutes, trying to orient myself. Was it day or night? How long had I slept here alone?
My stomach wouldn’t be ignored for long, though, and I rolled up onto my knees. I must have slept for a while to be this hungry—missed a meal or two.
I considered eating something from the supply pile in the hole—after all, I’d already damaged pretty much everything, maybe destroyed some. But that only made me feel guiltier about the idea of taking more. I’d go scavenge some rolls from the kitchen.
I was feeling a little hurt, on top of all the big hurt, that I’d been down here so long without anyone coming to look for me—what a vain attitude; why should anyone care what happened to me?—so I was relieved and appeased to find Jamie sitting in the doorway to the big garden, his back turned on the human world behind him, unmistakably waiting for me.
My eyes brightened, and so did his. He scrambled to his feet, relief washing over his features.
“You’re okay,” he said; I wished he were right. He began to ramble. “I mean, I didn’t think Jared was lying, but he said he thought you wanted to be alone, and Jeb said I couldn’t go check on you and that I had to stay right here where he could see that I wasn’t sneaking back there, but even though I didn’t think you were hurt or anything, it was hard to not know for sure, you know?”
“I’m fine,” I told him. But I held my arms out, seeking comfort. He threw his arms around my waist, and I was shocked to find that his head could rest on my shoulder while we stood.
“Your eyes are red,” he whispered. “Was he mean to you?”
“No.” After all, people weren’t intentionally cruel to lab rats—they were just trying to get information.
“Whatever you said to him, I think he believes us now. About Mel, I mean. How does she feel?”
“She’s glad about that.”
He nodded, pleased. “How about you?”
I hesitated, looking for a factual response. “Telling the truth is easier for me than trying to hide it.”
My evasion seemed to answer the question enough to satisfy him.
Behind him, the light in the garden was red and fading. The sun had already set on the desert.
“I’m hungry,” I told him, and I pulled away from our hug.
“I knew you would be. I saved you something good.”
I sighed. “Bread’s fine.”
“Let it go, Wanda. Ian says you’re too self-sacrificing for your own good.”