The Transfer ✔️

Chapter Thirty-Two - Recovery

Leonardo tilts my chin up with his fingers before cradling my face in the palm of his hand. I turn with no choice but to pout when he studies me seriously. I don't need pity.

"I'm fine." I try to squirm but Leonardo puts a hand on my hip. I stop moving abruptly, embracing the calm his touch delivers.

"You're not fine," He frowns, tracing his finger under the dark circles that have become more prominent after my lack of sleep. "Sleep is important. You need it."

"Not if it's plagued with nightmares." I mumble but I know I've said the wrong thing when Leonardo's face grows tight with a deeper level of concern.

Instead of an outburst which I expect, Leonardo sighs and draws me closer to his body. My crossed legs stop us from getting too close, but I'm in his personal space enough that I can smell his scent that I've become slightly addicted too. Twirling one strand of hair around his finger, he leans forward and presses his lips against my forehead. I murmur with contentment and lean in further, his body almost completely supporting mine.

"Are you ready for today?" He questions as he pulls back.

"Yes." No.

He sighs, Leonardo can see straight through me. It's a trait of his I don't know if I love or hate yet. "I'll be right beside you."

"I know. Thank you." I sigh, turning and eating again to try and distract my mind.

It's funeral day. A day to commiserate the dead and heal the wounds their loss has left behind. My wounds are too deep to heal, only I can hide them. Seal them over and pretend they're not there. The day of the dead. We lost a lot of people from the attack – of course we did, we were defenseless. I curse myself for not becoming leader a month ago and implementing rules earlier. Maybe then we would have managed to fight back. By the look of the death tolls, our camp took the biggest hit. We're still bigger than Oakwood, however and that fact brings me deep reassurance.

The funeral may be for everyone, but in my mind it's only for one person: Ruby. Today is the last day with her body in camp, dead or alive. After this she's packed away. The gut-wrenching fact is that only her brother is there for her. He has to deal with the responsibility. I pray that the system has support groups for situations such as Ruby's, but I'm morbidly convinced that they don't.

I push away from the table with an empty bowl, a success considering the past two days. I squeeze Leonardo's hand in a silent goodbye – I still don't like PDA – before going back to work. I have three hours to myself. Three hours to collect my thoughts and work out any lingering aggression. It works. I succeed.

Showering and dressing in all black out of curtesy and also with the hope it'll help me blend in, I let my hair hang loose before walking out into the hallway. Evelyn waits for me outside and her eyes immediately start watering when I come out.

I hold up a hand in refusal. "Stop that. We're just going to a ceremony. There's nothing wrong."

Nothing wrong. Just a ceremony. This will end.

Three facts I repeat to myself over and over and over again whilst I walk out to the barren fields. Make my way to my seat. Stand in the front row. Ignore the wails of those who have lost behind me.

It's those same eight words I repeat over and over whilst they roll out the caskets. The fallen have their names on wooden plaques which hang attached to the front. I don't see Ruby's until it's rolled to the front row. It's wicker, standing natural and strong against the ravaged fields she lost her life on.

I whimper and bite my lip to try and stop the sound. It doesn't work. What does is Evelyn leaning her head against my shoulder. I wrap my arm around her shoulder whilst Leonardo takes my other hand, tears threatening to spill out of his own tortured eyes. My support system. They may be crumbling apart like me, but together we stand strong against the emotions.