Dear Kitt,
I never told you how relieved I was to discover you were Carver.
I never told you how much I loved those morning runs with you.
I never told you how much I loved to hear you say my name.
I never told you how often I reread your letters, and how I now feel agonized, to know they are lost to me, scattered somewhere in Marisol’s B and B.
I never told you that I think the world of you, that I want to read more of your words, that I think you should write a book and publish it.
I never thanked you for going to the front lines with me. For coming between me and the grenade.
I never told you that I love you. And I regret that, most of all.
Oath was exactly as she had left it.
The streets were crowded, the pavement gleaming from a recent rain. The trams ran their courses, bells ringing. The buildings were tall and the shadows were cold. The air smelled like a rubbish bin and sugared bread.
The war felt distant, no more than a dream.
Iris followed her brother to their flat.
She was exhausted. They had been traveling in near silence for days now, and it had worn her down. She hadn’t told him yet about their mother. The words suddenly beat in her chest, frantic to find their way out.
“Forest.” She took hold of his sleeve, stopping him on the pavement before their building. “I need to tell you something.”
He waited, his eyes on her face.
It began to rain softly. Mist beaded in their hair, gathered on their shoulders. It was eventide, and the lamps began to flicker to life.
“Mum’s not here,” Iris said.
“Where is she?”
“She passed away, weeks ago. It’s why I left Oath. It’s why I became a correspondent. There was nothing left for me here.”
Forest was silent. Iris dared to glance at his face. She was terrified she would find blame in his eyes, but her brother only sighed and pulled her close. She was stiff until his arms wrapped around her, enveloping her in a warm embrace. His chin rested on her head and they stood entwined as the last of the light dwindled.
“Come on,” he said, relinquishing her when he felt her shiver. “Let’s go home.”
Iris found the spare key, hidden behind a loose stone in the lintel. She was reluctant to step into the flat’s empty darkness first. She gave that honor to Forest, who instantly reached for the light switch.
“The electricity’s off,” he mumbled.
“There are a few candles on the sideboard. To your left,” Iris said, closing the door behind them.
Her brother fumbled in the dark, finding the matches from one of the dash-packs. He struck a flame and lit a host of candles. The light was weak, but it was enough.
Iris glanced around the room.
The flat was just as she remembered, only dustier. More cobwebs hung in the corners, and it smelled musty and sad, like spoiled paper and drenched wool and decaying memories.
The box with her mother’s belongings still sat on the tea table. Forest noticed, but he didn’t touch it and he said nothing as he collapsed on the sofa with a groan.
Iris remained standing, feeling strangely out of place.
“Do you want to sit down?” Forest asked.
She took that as an invitation to finally talk, and she gingerly crossed the room, sitting beside him.
The silence was awkward. Iris cracked her knuckles, wondering what she should say. Her hands were still covered in small lacerations, from when she had crawled through the rubble of Avalon Bluff, the grass of the field. She stared at the silver ring on her finger. In some terrible way, it felt as if Roman was nothing more than a feverish dream. This ring was the only proof she had, the one tangible thing to whisper to her, Yes, it happened, and he loved you.
Forest thankfully broke the quiet.
“I found the locket in the trenches,” he began. “I was with Dacre’s forces. We were driving forward, and I nearly passed over it. The gleam of gold caught my eye at the last minute, and I stopped, to see what it was.” He paused, pulling a loose thread from his sleeve. “As soon as I recognized it, I knew you had been wearing it, Iris. It devastated me in a way I can’t describe. And I was determined that I would find you and we would both escape the war. I was … I was so tired and exhausted. It took everything within me to break away from Dacre’s command. If not for the locket, I don’t think I could have done it.”
Iris was quiet. She watched her brother closely in the candlelight. The emotion he had been burying for days was stirring. She could hear it in his voice, see it in the deep lines of his brow.
“I made it my mission to find you,” Forest continued in a hushed tone. “It was surprisingly easy. After I deserted, I fled to Avalon Bluff. I caught wind that correspondents resided there and that’s when it hit me. You weren’t fighting as a soldier, but as a reporter. But I couldn’t simply walk up to you and announce myself. I knew I would have to wait and bide my time. That I would most likely have to wait until things got bad, when Dacre tried to take the town. And so that’s what I did. I lived on the outskirts, but I kept watch over you. I saw you that afternoon, in the garden with Kitt.”
Iris flushed. Her brother had seen her on Roman’s lap, kissing him. She had no idea what she thought about it.
“I know he means a great deal to you, Iris,” Forest whispered. “And I’m sorry, Little Flower. I’m sorry I couldn’t save him as I saved you. But I need you to understand that it took every fiber within me to desert, to defy Dacre’s command. It took everything within me to run to safety with you.”
He met her gaze. Iris glanced away, unable to withstand the pain in his eyes.
“It wasn’t your choice to fight for Dacre?” she asked.
“No.”
“I … I still don’t understand, Forest. I received news that you had been wounded, but evacuated in time. That you were fighting with another company of Enva’s.”
“Part of that is true,” Forest replied. “I was wounded at Lucia River, so badly that I was supposed to die in the Meriah infirmary. I held on for days, but was too weak to be evacuated, and when Dacre came to take Meriah … he healed me before I died. He held me by the debt of my life, and I had no choice but to fight for him.”
The words chilled her. They suddenly spun strange thoughts in her mind. Images of Roman, wounded. Struggling to breathe in the cloud of gas that had swarmed him in the field. Would she rather him dead or taken by the enemy?
“I’ve done things, Iris,” Forest continued, bringing her back to the present. “I’ve done things that I can barely live with. And I know you may want to leave me. I can see it in your eyes; you want to find Kitt and your other friends. But I need you. I’m asking you to stay here with me, where it’s safe.”
She nodded, even though her heart was sinking. “I won’t leave you, Forest.”
He closed his eyes, relieved.
He looked like he had aged an entire decade. She caught a fleeting glimpse of him as an old man, worn and weathered and somber.