After hours of staring out the window, Faine had mentally measured the distance between her and every public building. A mile to the nearest restaurant. Three if she needed to disappear though the park and lose a tail. North six blocks was a lively museum and west led back to the hospital.
As a former residence, Faine would've expected a knock at the door or detail sitting outside, but the Guard seemed to be leaving this particular home a wide berth.
With her elbows propped against the window sill, she watched dawn turn to dusk. The moon rose steadily over the horizon, glowing through the clouds before the sun had completely set. The magenta skies were cooling down for the night, bleeding into a rich royal purple.
The floorboards behind her began to creak, making her spine stiffen. Metal clicked and the door behind her slowly popped open.
Footsteps echoed softly until the door clicked again.
Feeling paralyzed, Faine didn't move an inch. She didn't know what to say to him, how to look at him. He'd been through enough today and she was only going to make it worse.
It felt safer to pretend he wasn't there at all.
"I know you heard me," Leighton said, his voice groggy with sleep and soreness. "Don't tell me you've been left alone with your thoughts too long."
A laugh escaped her. "Not long enough, I'd say..."
"How's your amnesia?" he asked.
"How's your body?" she quipped.
He huffed a half hearted laugh as Faine turned to face him with a brow raised. Leighton shook his head and came to sit on the bed behind her.
Before her sat the man from every memory and dream, those amber eyes staring back at her. Deep, unending whirls of brown and orange swept together in his irises, emotion churning beneath the surface. Leighton's challenging facial expressions were softer than normal, the look on his face more tired than anything else.
Faine wondered how she looked to him. If she too shared that weighted exhaustion so woven into her soul that even her features bled with the feelings.
"She certainly said it was going to take all day, but I wasn't sure..." Faine said, glancing back out the window. "The sun is setting."
"Indeed it is," he agreed. "Though, I get the feeling your meaning is deeper."
She shrugged, returning her attention to him. "I'm grateful you're okay," she murmured. "I was worried when I saw how she had you strung up in the air like that."
Leighton thought about his response for a moment, his left hand playing with the fraying edges of her forgotten towel. "I can say the same, I'd never seen you so sick in all the years I've known you."
Faine nodded, feeling herself shutting down. The resistance within her was overwhelming. No matter how hard she fought off her emotions, they lassoed her heart and held her hostage to the truth.
"What is it, bird?" he asked, his voice gentle and soothing.
"Naisene did this," she blurted out, wringing her hands together. Ripping the bandage off was the only way she'd get this done. "Naisene... I don't know how and I don't know why but they're working with Trace..."
Leighton sighed through his nose, nearly groaning. "Saesin said you needed to talk to me, but I was hoping it wouldn't come to this."
Faine knew her heart would start racing, but she had no idea she'd be able to hear it in her ears or feel it in her finger tips. The anxiety radiating through her body had consumed her whole.
"They set us up, Leigh," she breathed out. "How else could the Compound have known we were going to break in that day? Why would Trace already be gone? They sacrificed everyone in that building to protect their secrets."
The compassion dimmed in his eyes, a frown pulling on his lips. "Faine, I know you've been through so much... God, I do, but there are other explanations. We were staking out the Compound for months, they could've easily caught on to what we were doing that day... I'm sorry, but we need more evidence before-"
"We are the evidence! Naisene wouldn't bomb the general public! They wouldn't kill more Guardian's after one failed rescue, they would try harder! Unless it didn't benefit them anymore. Unless they decided to cut their losses."
"We are speculation at best, Faine! You can't go condemning a sector of the government without actual proof!" he yelled, launching off the bed. His voice reverberated off the thin walls. Leighton paced the length of the room before spinning back to her. "This is insane."
Her laughter turned cold and bitter. "She said you'd say that," Faine muttered.
Reaching out between them, her fingers danced with the shadows she'd so carefully cultivated throughout her lifetime. They danced like flames around her hand as she rolled the wisps around her fingers and up her arms. Out of practice, perhaps, but still beautiful.
"What are you planning..." Leighton asked quietly. He walked back over and kneeled in front of where she was sitting. "What are you actually asking of me?"
Faine wasn't certain. Her eyes darkened as she dissociated on the ground. "I don't remember everything, you know..." she whispered. "There are things that I will likely never remember."
Those barren slots of space in her mind still haunted her. Nothing could replace those memories, not new or synthetic. For the rest of her life, she might never know several of her favorite things or recall the face of past friends.
Trace destroyed those pieces of her.
Now, he might even take her partnership with him.
She watched from the corner of her eye as Leighton's brows knit together in concern. Those amber eyes she'd always loved softening once again.
He nodded, waiting for her.
"He took that from me..." she said, biting her lip to fight the tears. "He took that from me and Naisene isn't even looking for him, they're looking for me? Don't you find that suspicious? They don't care that Trace escaped, they care about the sole survivor loose in the city..."
The conflict in Leighton's eyes hurt her. He looked so torn he might split in two. His head dropped in front of her, nearly grazing her knee.
"I'm not crazy," she whispered again. "I know I'm not crazy..."
A tear dragged down her cheek, slipping off her chin.
"No, you're not," he said, meeting her eyes. Leighton reached up and caught the second escaped tear. "I know..."
"I need some time," she managed to say, exhaling.
"I can't help you..." he answered. His hand dropped away from her face. "Not without proof, I'm sorry."
Faine knew the heartbreak was coming, her ribs already threatening to suffocate her. His words repeated in her head over and over again. He was leaving her alone.
"I need some time," she repeated, glancing at the door. She didn't want to dismiss him, but she couldn't look at Leighton's sad eyes for another second. "I need... to sort this out myself."
Clearing his throat, he pulled away from her and leaned back. "What do you mean..."
She didn't know and the more she tried, the more words failed her. More tears flowed down her cheeks and she found her throat clogging with tension. There was nothing left to say, he refused her.
She was alone.
He nodded, reading the words lost in translation. "I understand, Birdie... Take all the time you need."
Leighton shoved off the ground and walked over to the door. Faine knew he was still watching her, attempting to read her mind. She barely managed to drag her gaze up to meet his.
"I'll go check on dinner," he said. "Saesin said she'd have it ready soon."
Faine nodded, taking a deep breath and trying to offer him a smile. She was certain it was closer to a grimace. But it seemed to soothe him slightly nonetheless.
Leighton gave a half hearted wave and headed downstairs.
She'd already decided though.
Faine wouldn't be joining them for dinner.
Not until she could sleep at night knowing Trace was six feet under. Or more.
Instead she shoved a couple blades she'd found around the second story into her pants pockets and tugged on the brown leather jacket she found in Saesin's closet. It zipped up firmly, leaving Faine to wonder if the witch ever even wore it.
She knew Saesin wouldn't miss it.
Stalking over to the window, Faine lifted the sliding glass in one fluid motion and stepped out onto the small metal balcony. Then, she slid down the ladder bars and hopped down to the streets below.
If proof was what he needed, she would find it.
Then she would make them pay.