All That Could Be Lost

Statement Twenty

Kamala pouted. “I can’t wait that long.”

Kerry just laughed, tossing her a knowing look as she plugged in the pad.

“Oh, you will,” she smirked. “You literally have no choice.”

Kamala flopped back dramatically onto the pillows. “You’re cruel.”

“I’m responsible,” Kerry countered, placing the heating pad gently on Kamala’s hip and adjusting the blanket over her. “And slightly traumatized. But mostly responsible.”

Kamala reached for her hand under the covers, fingers curling around it.

“Okay,” she whispered. “Let’s just… be soft for a while.”

Kerry squeezed back. “Soft sounds good.”

Kamala curled up against Kerry’s side, blanket pulled up over her stomach, heating pad tucked against her hip. Kerry was thumbing through the news on her tablet, occasionally brushing her fingers through Kamala’s hair. It was soft. Gentle. The closest they’d felt in days.

A knock at the door.

Kamala groaned into Kerry’s shoulder. “Ignore it. I’m dying.”

“You’re not dying,” Kerry said, already sitting up.

“Feels like it.”

Kerry stood carefully. Her body still ached. Every movement reminded her of how much they’d done, how far they’d gone. She adjusted the loose sweatshirt she’d thrown on earlier and made her way, slowly, to the front door.

She opened it.

And stopped short.

“Ava? Lara?”

Both assistants stood there, serious-eyed and out of breath. Ava wore a blazer over jeans like she’d rushed out mid-day. Lara was holding her tablet to her chest like it might shield her from something.

“We need to talk to you. Both of you,” Ava said quickly.

Kerry frowned. “Kamala’s not feeling well-”

Lara’s eyes flicked to Kerry’s wrists, then down to her cautious posture. Ava did the same.

“Is this… is this a domestic issue?” Lara asked quietly.

“What?”

“You’re… bruised,” Ava said, lowering her voice. “And walking like you’re in pain. Did Kamala-”

“It’s not that,” Kerry said firmly. “It’s nothing like that. We’re fine. We're just-”

“We really need to talk to you both,” Lara cut in. “Your phones have been off for hours.”

Kerry tensed.

Just then, Kamala appeared behind her, robe tied tightly around her waist, her expression calm, but every step she took looked like agony. Her jaw clenched slightly as she approached.

“I’m here,” Kamala said, trying to sound steady. “What’s going on?”

Ava’s eyes immediately scanned Kamala’s face. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Kamala said. “What’s wrong?”

Ava hesitated, visibly wanting to push more, but Lara jumped in.

“Anyways,” she said briskly, “The shooter was identified.”

Both Kerry and Kamala straightened, eyes locked onto Lara now.

“What?” Kerry asked.

“He hasn’t been located yet,” Lara said. “But… it’s Clayton Ash.”

Silence.

Kamala’s lips parted like she’d been punched in the stomach. Kerry took an unconscious step forward.

“You’re sure?” she asked.

Lara nodded once. “Positive.”

Kamala’s body swayed slightly, and Kerry stepped beside her instantly, one hand on her lower back, the other reaching for her wrist, soft, instinctual.

They said nothing.

The door shut behind Lara and Ava.

Silence settled. Kamala didn’t move.

Kerry stepped forward. “Kamala-”

“Don’t touch me.”

Kerry froze. Kamala’s voice was hoarse, brittle.

“He was after me,” Kamala whispered. “Not John. Me.”

“Kamala, you didn’t-”

“Yes, I did.” Her eyes were glassy. “Clayton lost his career because of us. Because he tried to out us, and we made sure he’d never work again. You pulled the strings, sure, but I let it happen. I watched.”

Kerry’s voice was gentle. “He was dangerous- he threatened you.”

“And now John is dead.” Kamala backed away, arms around herself. “Because I was easier to reach. Because I was out in the open.”

“You were just-”

“I was selfish,” Kamala snapped. “I let myself be loved. I let myself be visible. And now I’m all he has left to aim at.”

Kerry reached out, but Kamala stepped away again.

“Don’t touch me. Please. I can’t be held right now.” Her voice cracked. “I don’t deserve it.”

Kerry stood still, watching the woman she loved fold in on herself.

And didn’t move.