The first thing Destiny noticed when she woke was that her jaw hurt.
She swallowed.
Pain.
A dull ache travelled up the side of her face and settled somewhere behind her temple.
She tried to move her arms.
Her muscles felt strange.
Heavy.
Used.
As though she had spent hours fighting something she couldn't remember fighting.
Then she opened her eyes.
White ceiling.
White walls.
The soft mechanical beeping of something beside her.
The clinic.
Destiny stared upward.
For a moment, she didn't remember why she was there.
Then—
the town hall.
Vera's body.
Harold.
Charity.
Her grandfather.
The argument.
The screaming.
Her father's voice.
Her own body collapsing.
Her breath caught.
"Harold."
The word came out before she even knew she had said it.
A chair scraped against the floor.
Mathew lifted his head.
He had fallen asleep sitting beside her bed, one arm folded across his chest and the other resting against his thigh. His eyes were red from exhaustion.
"What?"
