Page 101 of Glutton for Punishment

For days they’ve been trying to coax me out of bed with their whispered encouragement and untouched food trays.

“Arwen,” Tabby says, voice firmer than Cleo’s. “You need to eat something.”

Jokes on them. I’ve starved for longer than this. I don’t need to move. Nothing short of divine universe intervention is getting me out of this bed.

“Okay, enough of this.” She rips the blankets off me, and I shriek in surprise as cold air hits my skin.

“Tabby—!”

“I love you,” she says while grabbing my ankle, “but you smell terrible and I’m not watching my feistiest friend burn out in a pile of her own filth.”

“Tabby,” Cleo hisses.

“What? She’s taking a bath, or I will hose her down, Cleo. She may think torturing herself is fine, but she’s not torturing my nose any longer.”

They haul me out of bed despite my weak protests. I’m too exhausted to fight. Somehow I end up shoved into a steaming bath while Tabby mutters about me being “one depressive episode away from becoming a cryptid.”

Cleo washes my hair and Tabby scrubs my arms. Neither says a word when the tears start again.

Emerging from the bathroom wrapped in clean clothes, I spy food already set up at the small table by the window.

I’ve never had an overbearing parental figure in my life, and now I’m not sure why I wanted one in the first place.

Clearly, the universe brought them into my life to torture me with their love and care.

With a defeated sigh, I sit and take a bite. Silence stretches between us for several minutes. Then Cleo speaks. “Arwen… you know this wasn’t your fault.”

“Not my fault?” I snap, the words exploding out of me so fast they surprise even me. The fork clatters from my hand as anger rises sharp, slicing through the numbness.

“I didn’t see anyone else firing off voids of destruction that remove people’s limbs!”

Both of them go still, faces remaining kind despite my outburst.

Cleo recovers first. “Nobody has ever seen a power like yours before,” she says. “No one expects you to know how to control something that no one understands. Everyone else has had years of at least basic power training. It’s like giving a rocket launcher to someone who’s never even seen a gun before.”

“I hurt someone!” My voice cracks. “I made that decision. I used my power. No one forced me. In the past, it was always in self defense or during combat training. He was innocent and scared, and hiding.”

The room falls silent again.

“Maddox hasn’t said anything to me,” I whisper. “Duval probably blames me. I’m sure I’ve ruined the alliance.”

Tabby’s expression softens. “Maddox does not blame you.”

“You don’t know that.”

“We do,” Cleo says. “He checks in with us multiple times every day to ask how you are doing.”

“I have nothing to offer here,” I whisper. “I keep trying to help and all I do is make everything worse for him. There’s no winning with his family. My power is unstable. I’ve used it three times since coming to Gluttony, each time more destructive than the last.”

Cleo leans forward. “Then learn.”

I look at her in confusion.

She shrugs. “You have a dangerous power. Fine. Learn to control it.”

Tabby nods. “Sulking in bed won’t make it disappear. This isn’t you. This isn’t the girl who worked hard every day to prove she deserved to be at the Academy, despite no powers, four asshole bonds and a death deadline handing over her head.”

“Your intentions are good, Arwen. That matters.” Cleo adds, folding her arms. “You need to talk to Maddox.”