One Heart

5. Where is home?

Kensie

Kensie sat reading in a chair by her bed, guarding Sorah for most of the day as she flicked through the pages of a book she couldn't recall the name of. Her mind was occupied by the sleeping girl in her bed, so much so that her lack of concentration gnawed at her.

Sorah looked just like Isha. Identical. It was enough to flood her mind with memories.

Stiff from sitting in one place for hours, she decided to venture downstairs, away from the object of her confusion, sure that Sorah would be fine if she were to wake without her.

Maggie was in the kitchen, preparing dinner. Kensie scanned the area, relaxing when she realised they were alone. "Your father's in the study, working on finding Beth," Maggie said. "Danni's gone out, Josh is in his room."

With her mind elsewhere, Kensie nodded. She must have zoned out as she realised Maggie had been speaking, the words an unrecognisable blur, drowned out by her thoughts. "I'm sorry?"

"I said she's just like her grandmother, isn't she? She has the same presence. I'd almost forgotten what that felt like to be around."

Kensie's attention snapped to the present. "Very much." She paused to look out the window. "But much more innocent, though I suppose that will change." Her mind flooded with memories of her old friend, as she compared grandmother to granddaughter. Kensie and Isha had been close, best friends to the point that they might as well have been sisters. She was her dearest friend, and Kensie had failed to protect her.

She held the esteemed title of Queen's Assassin, and yet when it came time to protect her queen, she couldn't. Kensie turned the title over and over in her mind, a title she hadn't heard, not dared to use, for almost thirty years, suddenly brought back into her mind thanks to Alyssa Kahahn.

"She certainly lights up around you. She—"

A pointed glare silenced Maggie's next words. "She's a child."

"Still—"

"She's Isha's granddaughter. She trusts me because I saved her. Whatever you think you see it's no more than that. No more than gratitude and maybe some kind of innocent teenage crush. Whatever it is, it's not that."

Looking down at the chopping board, Maggie said, "You're allowed to forgive yourself you know."

Only she couldn't. She'd failed Isha. Her queen was dead because she'd couldn't save her, and now Kensie was forced to exist without her. Forced to look at her granddaughter who was practically her twin. Any gravitation she felt toward Sorah lay only in her similarity to Isha.

"I'm going out." Kensie took a step toward the door. "Please let me know when she wakes."

Just as she did whenever she felt her control slip, she ran, her feet pounding the pavement as she distanced herself from her worries. From the girl who looked and acted just like her dearest friend. A friend she missed so much it woke her from her sleep most nights.

But it wasn't the grief that plagued her—she'd pushed that well beneath the surface, just as she did with any emotion she didn't need the world to see. It was the blame. The guilt that haunted her.

***

Sorah

Sorah woke with bleary eyes. She remembered breakfast, then feeling heavy with exhaustion before passing out in Kensie's arms. She searched the room, looking for the woman in question, and decided to exit the bed and broaden her search. She hurried down the stairs, an excitement within her that she couldn't quite quantify.