Page 5 of Her Unending Horizon

Trenda leaned against the counter. “So,” she said casually, though nothing about her tone was casual. “How are you really?”

“I’m fine.”

Her eyebrow lifted.

“I am,” I insisted. “I’ve been in therapy for three months now, and the meds don’t make me feel like I’m watching myself from across the room anymore.”

“That’s good,” she said quietly. “That’s really good.”

There was a lull. I looked over my shoulder at Bella. She was sketching away and Drake started fussing again, but nothing dramatic.

Trenda glanced toward the windows. “This place suits you,” she said. “I get why you like it here.”

“It’s peaceful.”

“But lonely,” she added gently.

I didn’t argue.

She turned back to me. “When are you going to see Zarek?”

“Soon.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“It’s the only one I’ve got.”

“You can’t live like this forever.”

“I’m not hiding,” I said evenly. “I’m healing.”

I turned when Bella piped up. “Uncle Zarek is sad.”

The words were simple. Unfiltered.

I turned to look at her. “What makes you think that?”

“He doesn’t laugh the same,” she said. “And he doesn’t stay long when he visits.”

Trenda inhaled sharply. “Bella⁠—”

“It’s okay,” I said. “I asked.”

Bella met my eyes from across the room, earnest and unflinching. “He looks tired. Like he’s somewhere else even when he’s there.”

The room felt heavier after that.

This time Drake started crying like he meant business, his arms flailing. I chuckled. “He’s behaving like his namesake. He wants attention.”

“I should have considered that before naming him after our big brother,” Trenda sighed.

I reached for him without thinking, lifting him carefully from his carrier. The warmth of his weight settled against my chest—solid, real, alive.

Trenda froze.

“I’m okay,” I whispered.

Drake sighed and relaxed against me, his head fitting perfectly beneath my chin. I walked over to the couch and sat down slowly, afraid to move.