The room above her had the wrong light, the white spreading across the landing without making the stone feel warmer beneath her feet.
She knew where the table would be.
The door had not opened far enough to show it, yet her body had already found the place where her wrists used to hurt.
Ash held her hand with both of his.
His thumbs were warm.
"Don't look inside," he whispered.
She looked at his fingers instead, counting them until she stopped trying to pull her own hand away from a table that was not touching her.
Her other palm stayed against the Sanctuary wall.
The light there knew where her hand ended.
Nothing pushed her fingers flat.
"You can leave that room behind," the voice said.
She had wanted that before she knew how to explain wanting it, curling small in places where sleep brought the table back even when nobody opened a door.
The white light waited above her.
"I can keep the happy parts."
