37. The Bird’s Nest

37. The Bird’s Nest

Skylenna

I could have stopped it.

The brimstone walls blur past me, blending in with the flickering yellow and red bulbs. Voices, questions, screams, whispers, orders, sickles slicing through lungs, bodies swinging on nooses, conformists drowning patients, RottWeilens howling in the night, friends crying in pain, axes chopping through bone.

My veins leak a slow poison directly into my heart cavity.

It all comes crashing.

The stairwell takes me to the highest point in the prison.

And. It. All. Comes. Crashing.

Their looks of despair, of soul-shattering pain, of guilt as to why we didn’t do anything to protect Ruth, of fear that we might lose her anyway.

They chopped off her legs.

I did nothing to stop it.

Not a traitor. Not a traitor. Not a traitor. Not a traitor. Not a traitor. Not a traitor. Not a traitor. Not a traitor. Not a traitor. Not a traitor. Not a traitor. Not a traitor. Not a traitor. Not a traitor. Not a traitor. Not a traitor. Not a traitor. Not a traitor. Not a traitor. Not a traitor. Not a traitor. Not a traitor. Not a traitor. Not a traitor. Not a traitor. Not a traitor. Not a traitor. Not a traitor. Not a traitor. Not a traitor. Not a traitor. Not a traitor. Not a traitor. Not a traitor. Not a traitor. Not a traitor. Not a traitor. Not a traitor. Not a traitor. Not a traitor. Not a traitor.

My heart stretches and tears like an old piece of cloth. I clutch my chest as I sprint those steps, not able to distinguish sweat from tears.

What have I done?

I get lucky as I reach the top level, the painted red door sitting in a daunting spotlight. The Bird’s Nest. The looming rooftop. The tipping point for many prisoners in this prison. There is no sentinel guarding the area. Pushing the door open, I now realize why. It’s too high in the clouds for anyone to successfully form an escape plan that involves scaling the walls or jumping.

My fault.

The air around me is thick and gray, obscuring any chance I have of seeing the edge of this towering perch. I crawl across the pebbled ground, being hit in every direction by fierce blasts of wind. Whooshing gusts toss my hair into golden whips around me. After a moment of moving blindly, my fingernails scrape against an edge, black bricks forming a waist-high wall.

She didn’t make a sound.

I grip its chalky edge, holding on tight against the wailing breeze. I can feel the extent of the altitude without actually seeing the ground. It lights my nerves on fire, prickling my fingertips and toes.

I did nothing.

“I’m so sorry, Ruth,” I cry out to the cloudy abyss, clawing my nails into the grainy surface until pain stings up my knuckles. “It’s my fault!”

I could have pushed past the brain fog, forced my way into the void to see the lie Kaspias spun across our tight-knit family. I could have tried harder. And those horrible thoughts? I really had it in me to think such evil things about my best friend? I wanted to hurt her myself. When she volunteered to take Dessin’s punishment, I didn’t have any objections. None.

I wanted Ruth to pay for the deep wound she carved in my chest.

But it was all a lie.

I scream to the wind.

How will we survive this?

How can my friends ever forgive me for letting this happen?

They’re better off without me. Without having to hear my apologies. Without having to look at the guilt sliced into my face. Dessin will get them out of this. They’ll be safe and happy.

And Ruth can live a happy life knowing that I got what I deserved.

My fault.

She didn’t make a sound.

They’re better off without me.

My fault.

I sob into my hands until my face grows hot and achy. I can’t stop crying; it only manages to make the migraine throb harder.

“I love you, Dessin.” I attempt to wipe my sore, gushing eyes. “I’m a coward. You—oh, god, you deserve so much better than me. I’ll—watch over you for the rest of your life.”

Climbing up on the ledge, adrenaline burns holes into every fiber of my being. My body sends off echoing alarms to back away from this drop, to go back inside.

“It looks like we’ll have a similar ending, Scarlett. I hope you’ll be on the other side waiting for me.” I take a deep breath, close my eyes, and—

A hand seizes my wrist before I can shove myself off the edge.

It isn’t thick and masculine. It’s thin, frail, and feminine.

I tilt my head to the left and look into…my. Mouth. Drops. Open. I look into my own eyes. Emerald-green, long lashes, and straight honey-blond hair.

“It’s just me and you now. I’m not going to leave you, Skylenna.”

Scarlett. My sweet, sad Scarlett. Her soft, full lips shift as she speaks. There’s color in her cheeks, life in her thoughtful gaze. Her warm skin tingles into mine like it’s made of electricity.

I can’t move. My eyes don’t blink. My heart stops.

“Is this…a memory?” I ask in a shaky breath.

“No.” She smiles at me like she can really see me. Like she’s really touching me. “This is real. I’ve been waiting so long for you to reach the part of your brain that can see me on the other side.”

A powerful stream of wind roars around us as I stare at my twin sister.

“Wait, are you saying…”

“Yes, Skylenna.” Scarlett delicately places a hand on my cheek. “I’m a spirit. You’ve finally accessed the part of your brain that can see all who have passed on.”