Page 39 of Bonds of Starfall

"Vesperin," Lucien greeted, pushing the door open fully and walking inside. He paused when he saw Kit, eyes flicking down to their joined hands. "Kiton." His tone was strained.

Kit released her hand and sat back. "Dr. Quenlan, please tell Rin that she’s not ready to go home."

Lucien lifted a clipboard. "Actually…" He looked up, green eyes dark behind his glasses. "You’re being discharged. Your heart has returned to normal—well, normal for you. We have no reason to keep you here any longer; however, you are strongly advised against returning to your training for the next week. I will be sending you out with a notice of leave."

He set the clipboard down at the foot of her bed, fingers brushing her foot under the blanket. She jolted, but he pulled his hand away without blinking. He didn’t flinch, didn’t apologize for touching her. Just went on speaking, as if the burn he left behind wasn’t still there.

"If you encounter problems with your superiors, have them talk to me. I will not allow my patient to be put in harm’s way when she’s healing."

"Really, I can go home?" She rubbed a hand over her aching chest with a wince. Her very bones felt bruised and sore.

Lucien nodded, reaching down to settle a pale, elegant hand over her knee. "Take it slow and easy. I’ve spoken with Sabine and Talor already. They want you to go home with Kiton for a bit to rest."

Rin hadn’t heard a word from her adoptive parents. Kit had told her they called, all frantic, but nothing directly to her. Not even a text from Xara. Keir had sent a short message, telling her to get her strength up, but nothing else. She tried not to let it sting.

The only one who mattered was in this room.

She looked at Kit. "Is that okay with you? I don’t want to bother you if you’ve already gotten used to the house to yourself."

Kit rolled his eyes. "That place is too big alone. I miss you. I always want you with me, Rin."

"I’ll have a wheelchair sent up. Hospital protocol. I believe Kiton has all your things." Lucien cleared his throat. "Vesperin, I mean it. There is no shame in stepping away. I—the people in this room care about you. No one wants to see you die."

It was the most concern Rin had ever seen the stoic doctor show.

She missed the way things used to be. When they were neighbors. Before both of them had become orphans… It was something that kept them tethered.

"Thank you, Dr. Lucien. But I am going to die." She searched his green eyes, willing him to understand. Why didn’tanyoneunderstand? "I want it to be on my terms, doing something that I can be proud of. If I curl into myself to add a few measly years onto my life, that is not truly living."

Kit visibly stiffened, but remained quiet, just as he did anytime she brought up her impending death.

Lucien sighed deeply, the sound haunted, almost. "You need to think this through, Vesperin. I never want you to be backhere like this again. I never want to see you, pale and lifeless, in a hospital bed, hooked up to machines to keep your heart beating."

Her chin trembled, but she swallowed the emotions down like poison as she said:

"There’s nothing to think through." She looked at him, then Kit, then her eyes unfocused, staring into the early morning light cast across the tile floor from the opened blinds. A new beginning. Out there was where she was truly meant to be. Not trapped. "I’ve made my decision a long time ago."

Lucien opened his mouth as if to speak again, but Kit stopped him. "She’s tired, Lucien, let her rest."

Rin was too focused on the window—thoughts of escape and exploration, all the places she may never get to see—to pay mind to the familiarity that Kit addressed her doctor with.

"Very well," Lucien said coolly, returning to the stoic man she knew him as. He picked up his clipboard and walked to the door, the soles of his shoes clicking across the tile. "Kiton, a word?" Lucien inclined his head to the hall outside her room.

Kit stood, patting her shoulder as he went. "Be right back. Guess you’re coming back home with me."

Rin gave a tired smile, watching as the door shut behind both men.

Alone, her mind spun. She had meant every word she had said: her mind was made; no going back. She would die either way. Better to die a Hunter. At least she could save someone in the process.

She had to get stronger, to get back to it. No use wallowing. Throwing her legs over the side of the hospital bed, Rin wobbled but braced a hand on the wall to support herself as she carefully and slowly walked to the small dresser built into the wall. She opened the far right cabinet, finding a set of clothes neatly foldedthat Kit had brought for her, along with a fresh pair of panties and a comfortable, pale grey sports bra.

Rin lifted the stack of clothes from the cabinet and placed it on the bed, unfurling the top shirt—a cozy, oversized, distressed tee. Perfect. She didn’t want constricting fabric. Just comfort.

Kit knew her too well.

Papers spilled onto the tile floor, dropping on top of her bare feet.

"What?" Rin questioned aloud. She kept a hand on the mattress as she slowly bent, dark spots clouding her vision as she gathered the papers up and stood. They had fallen out of a simple file folder.