Page 72 of Enslak

Just... Enslak.

Whole and complete.

We were sitting by the river at our usual spot, upstream from where that creature had attacked. Niki was washing tubers she'd found—some kind of root vegetable that tasted vaguely like something called turnips, she said. I was supposed to be cleaning the fowl I'd caught that morning.

I wasn't working.

I was watching her.

I did that a lot now. Watched her. Studied the way she moved, the expressions that crossed her face, the way the afternoon light caught in her hair. Everything about her fascinated me. Everything about her felt... necessary. Like air. Like water.

Like I couldn't function properly if she wasn't nearby.

"We should probably talk about going back."

The words came out of nowhere. She didn't even look up from her work, just kept scrubbing the tubers in the cool river water.

"To the Bardaga," she continued. "To your family."

The words hit me like a splash of ice water.

Back. To the Bardaga. To my family.

My hands stilled on the fowl. Blood dripped from my claws onto the smooth river stones.

I knew we'd have to eventually. We couldn't stay here forever, hidden away on this beautiful, dangerous planet. Niki had told me Binwee gave us thirty days. We were close to that now. Maybe past it. She'd probably already told them where we were.

They could arrive any day.

But the thought of leaving—of going back to that ship, to all those people, to a life I couldn't fully remember—made something in my chest tighten. Made it hard to breathe.

"I'm not ready."

The words came out rougher than I'd intended. Almost a growl.

"I know I should be. I know they're worried. But I'm not... I can't..."

I trailed off, frustrated. The words were there, somewhere in my head, but I couldn't quite grab them.

Niki set down the tuber she'd been washing and moved closer, settling beside me on the smooth river stones. Her shoulder brushed mine. Her hand found mine, fingers threading through with easy familiarity.

"It's okay," she said softly. "You don't have to be ready yet."

"My mind is still..." I gestured vaguely at my head, leaving bloody fingerprints in the air. "Broken. There are gaps. Things I should remember but can't. Things that feel like they're right there—" I reached out with my free hand, grasping at nothing. "Just out of reach. But when I try to grab them, they slip away."

"I know." Her thumb traced circles against my palm, soothing and grounding. "But you're getting better every day. You're speaking normally now. You're remembering more and more."

"But not everything." Frustration bled into my voice, making it sharp. "Not enough. What if I go back and they expect me to be... to be who I was before? What if I can't be that person anymore?"

Something fierce flashed in Niki's eyes.

"Enslak, you were tortured and experimented on for close to a century." Her voice was low and intense. "Anyone who expects you to be exactly who you were is an idiot."

The bluntness startled me into blinking.

"You survived something that would have destroyed most people," she continued, her voice gaining strength and conviction. "You endured things I can't even imagine. And you're still here. Still fighting. Still you, even if you're different now."

"But what if different isn't—"