Hold Me Closer, Necromancer - Lish McBride [108]
After the lawyer left, happily clutching his paperwork, Ashley shooed everyone out except for my mother and Sean. He’d pulled guard duty, I guess. He didn’t tell me why I needed a guard, only that it might look bad if I died in their care. I hoped he was joking. My mom sat quietly in the corner, staring at her hands as if willing them to stay still.
“Since you’ve leapt from Plumpy’s employee of the month to fancy necromancer—” Ashley said.
“Hey!” I pointed an indignant finger at her. “I was never employee of the month.”
Ashley flashed her dimples at my outburst. It worked, too. I instantly forgave her.
“You warrant a few personal spirits.” She checked her appearance in a mirror on the wall. She frowned, apparently not liking what she saw. She scrunched up her nose, and her outfit changed into a different blouse and skirt. She nodded at that, satisfied.
“Show-off.”
Ashley smoothed her skirt, making a point of ignoring me.
“These will act as guides, go-betweens to the land of the dead. I’ve decided to be one of yours.”
I grunted, twisting a little to adjust my pillow. “What, did I lose a coin toss?”
“A Harbinger as a guide is nothing to scoff at,” she said, scolding. Her tone would have sounded ridiculous on any other young girl, but Ashley managed it well. “You should be grateful.”
“Thank you.”
She ignored any sarcasm in my voice and told me that I was quite welcome. After pointedly looking at me and my mom, she left. I got the feeling that Ashley would not be a quiet guide.
Sean got the idea, too, but he only went as far as the outside of the door, which he explained merely gave the illusion of privacy.
He pointed to his ears. “These aren’t for ornament, either.” My mom and I sat in silence for a time. She pulled the chair up next to my bed and held my hand. Her skin looked pale, her eyes bloodshot.
“Tired?” I asked her.
She squeezed my hand. “I’m supposed to be worrying about you,” she said.
“I think you’ve met the quota on that this week.” We fell silent again. I let the minutes stretch as I happily sat there with my mom. There’d been a time when I’d thought I might not see her again.
“Sam—” Her tone was soft, like she was about to launch into another round of apologies. She started crying again. Though we had a lot to work through, I didn’t want to deal with it then. Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t stand the tight look of worry on my mom’s face, or to see any more crying.
“No, Mom, it’s okay.” I gave her a faint smile and grabbed a tissue from the bedside table and handed it to her. “We’re going to start over. What’s done is done.” I stared at the bruised area around the stitching on my arm. “And we’re both going to have to live with that.”
She leaned her head onto my hospital bed and started to cry even harder. I rested my arm on her back and let her get it all out. After this past week I really understood how good that felt.
Once she was done, she scooted me over and joined me on the hospital bed, hugging me roughly to her. We sat like that and listened to the quiet sounds of the hospital.
“When you’re better, we’ll go find your uncle. Get that last binding removed,” she said.
“No rush,” I said. “I should probably get used to what I have first.”
She smoothed my hair back with her hand. “Deal,” she said. She looked like she wanted to cry some more, but she didn’t. My mom always tried to be strong for us, whether we needed it or not. I guess it runs in the family, because now I was trying to do the exact same thing for her.
They made me sleep after that. When I woke up, the sun had gone down and the room was dark. The darkness felt comfortable, like a warm bed on a rainy night. I could hear the quiet beep of a monitor down the hall. Curled up next to me, and no longer wearing my clothes,