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Hours must’ve passed as I flipped through the book. It was past dark, and I had to be the last person here.
I lifted my hands and pictured a portal blooming in front of me. A few sparks came out of my fingertips, but no portal. If we couldn’t get the priestesses to break the contract, and we couldn’t open a portal to hell to send this demon through, then I didn’t know what options we had left.
I heard footsteps, and I quickly subconjured my book. Nadine emerged from behind the bookcases, and I relaxed. Oliver lounged on the windowsill, licking his paws. Isa jumped onto the sill beside him and stared out the window.
Nadine had dark circles under her eyes, and she yawned as she untied her cloak. She draped it over the back of the couch, before falling into the cushion beside me. “I thought I might find you here. Mind if I join you?”
“Not at all,” I told her. “How are you feeling today?”
Nadine frowned. “Honestly? Tired. I haven’t been able to sleep.”
“How can I help?”
She shook her head. “You can’t. Insomnia’s a side effect of dialysis. Even if it wasn’t, I don’t know if I’d be able to sleep with everything going on. What are you researching?”
I didn’t miss how quickly she changed the subject. “Portals. You?”
Nadine pulled a thick tome out from under her arm and opened it. “I’ve been researching demons. I’m supposed to be looking for patterns in the Waning. Since we know demon magic is behind it, I thought I could start there.”
I wrapped an arm around her. “Have you learned anything?”
She sagged in my arms. “So far, nothing. Literally, nothing like this has ever happened in the coven before. I think it’s why the priestesses are so intent on finding the Wands. Even they don’t know what they’re up against, so having the Wands gives them the best chance at obtaining power.”
“Maybe nothing is a clue itself,” I suggested.
“That’s a good point, but I don’t really know what it means… I just know what we’re doing now isn’t working. I’m sick of watching people die. We need answers.”
“It does you no good if you can’t read straight,” I said. “You need energy to help other people, and that starts with taking care of yourself. You need to rest.”
Nadine eyed me. “That’s unlike you to say.”
I shrugged. “I’ve picked up a thing or two from my therapist. If you push yourself too hard, you could end up in the hospital again. So please, tell me how I can help, because I want to.”
Nadine rested her head on my shoulder, her body warm and soft against mine. “All I can do is keep up my treatment. I’m doing better on dialysis. I really am. We’re both in a better spot with our health right now.”
I furrowed my brow. “What do you mean? I was never sick.”
She pulled away, eyebrows pinched together. “Yes, you were. You may not have been physically ill the way I am, but mental illness is just as serious.”
I chuckled. “It’s not like I was lying in a hospital bed.”
“But you could’ve been… or worse.”
My stomach sank at the reminder. I knew what she was saying. My depression had pushed me to limits I didn’t even know I had—made me think in ways I never wanted to. I’d be damned if I hadn’t thought how easy it would be to make it all go away.
My stomach hollowed just thinking about it. There were times when I thought I was better, and times when it felt like I was faking it—like one little trigger would break me and send me right back down the dark pit I’d dug so long ago.
“Have I really changed that much?” I wondered.
She nodded. “You have, but it’s all for the better.”
“If you like me for who I am now, then why’d you fall for me back then? I don’t get it.”
“Your depression never scared me,” she said gently. “It’s not who you are. Ever since you started therapy, I can see that you’re discovering more of your true self every day. And I love watching it, because every time I learn something about you, I fall deeper and deeper in love with you.”
“My depression is a part of me, though—probably always will be,” I pointed out. A dark pit opened in my stomach, and I couldn’t stop it. My thoughts flickered to all the bad I tried so desperately to ignore. “I can go to therapy and take meds, but I don’t know that I’ll ever be cured of my depression, just like your symptoms can go into remission but you’ll always have lupus. Every time I think I’m doing better, a wave comes back and knocks me off my feet. Even if I’m happy sometimes, I’ll still always have to use tools to manage. It won’t always be easy for us. That seems unfair to you. I don’t know why you would want to stick around.”
Nadine’s eyebrows pinched together, and she looked really hurt by what I said. “How could you ever think I wouldn’t want to be here?”
