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She could hear her still at the table, fiddling with whatever she’d been working on for the last hour.
And she’d been equally surprised when Saff had decided to stay there at the house the night before, sleeping on the living room couch, just a few feet from her own room. She’d even half expected her to be gone in the morning, but no—she was right there waiting when she woke.
And yet, in all that time, she couldn’t be bothered to speak more than a small handful of words to her. And even when she did, it was only about her burns, sounding as if each word was some great effort to get out.
She would’ve chalked it up to exhaustion or maybe her throat being sore from the fire, but she’d quickly noticed that she seemed to be talking to everyone else the normal amount. Not that she was overly talkative by any means, but at least with them it didn’t sound like every word cost her a year of her life.
“You hungry?” Maddie asked in a way that was more a release of anger and annoyance than an actual offer.
“No,” she muttered after a moment.
Maddie took another rough bite of the bar, losing whatever remaining patience she had. She was sick of it. Saff didn’t need to be there with her. Especially not if she was just going to ignore her.
“Have you decided when you’re going to leave yet?” Maddie asked, hating that the question came out with less spite than she intended.
Saff gave a noncommittal and entirely distracted grunt.
Maddie huffed, irritation building in her chest. She folded the wrapper over the mostly stale bar and, without thinking, used her injured arm to toss it on the counter behind her.
She winced, letting out a small hiss as the burns throbbed with pain. She held a tense breath, waiting for it to subside.
A chair slid against the ground with a scrape, followed by familiar footsteps approaching.
“Can I see?” Saff’s voice was low and gentle—softer than it’d been since the night they kissed. She hated how much she’d missed the sound.
Maddie swallowed as the back of her eyes began to sting. She would not let herself cry again and feel even more pathetic in front of Saff.
She inhaled slowly, gathering herself, then lifted her arm out slightly in front of her.
Saff’s fingers trailed lightly over her hand and elbow, leaving instant relief against her hot skin.
She released a breath, trying not to lean too far into the touch.
“It needs to be washed,” Saff muttered, finally releasing her arm.
Maddie didn’t answer. She knew it had to happen eventually, but she couldn’t imagine washing it when she could barely even move it without crying out in pain.
“It needs to be done,” Saff continued after a moment. “Especially if you’re gonna be traveling soon.”
Ifyou’regoing to be traveling soon.
Maddie’s jaw tightened with the reminder of Saff’s soon to be absence. It wasn’t that she wanted her there anymore, not after she’d lied to her. But the thought of it, of Saff not being there, still made her chest ache.
If she wasn’t still distracted by the pain in her arm, maybe she would’ve been able to come up with some angry retort. But she couldn’t, and that made her even angrier.
“Do you want me to help you wash it right now?”
Maddie turned her head away from Saff’s voice, cradling the arm protectively in front of her stomach.
Dealing with the pain of washing the burns was quite literally the absolute last thing she wanted to do.
“It has to be done,” Saff repeated gently.
“Yeah, I know,” Maddie snapped, the fury building with every emotionless word Saff spoke.
Silence filled the air between them for a few moments before Saff let out a small breath and spoke again. “It’ll hurt, but it won’t take long.”
Saff had barely spoken a word to her since the fire—or since their fight before. And now she’d broken that silence only tospeak to her like she was just some patient—someone she barely knew.