Page 117 of Hide From Me

“You scaredallof us,” she says, her voice low and steady. “But Raylen… she didn’t know how to handle what hit her.”

I shut my eyes, but all I can see is her face. That moment. That look.

“She looked at me like I was a stranger,” I whisper, and the words feel like they tear something loose inside me.

“She found out everything in one breath. No time to prepare. And then you collapsed in front of her.” The voice from the doorway pulls my head around despite the ache. Jonathan stands there, arms crossed, shoulders stiff, his expression struggling to remain neutral but failing. There’s something fragile in the way his brow creases, in the way his eyes crinkle, as if a smile might soften the blow of truth.

As if a smile could fix this. I suppose I now understand how people feel when I do it.

I stare at him for too long, and my pulse quickens. My body feels wrecked, my mind is on fire, and a spiral of anxiety grips me before I can stop it.

I didn’t get to explain.

I didn’t get to fix things.

I can barely remember what I said before blacking out—just fragments: her flinch, her eyes wide with fear, the step she took away from me.

Caspian leans in, his palm warm against my uninjured shoulder. “Don’t do that. Don’t spiral right now, Moe. I can’t—”

“I’m not spiraling,” I snap, my tone too sharp and raw. The monitor beside me is betraying me, beeping faster as my breath hitches. I don’t mean to lashout.I can’t imagine what Caspian has been through, sitting here watching me bleed out, wondering if he would have to bury me. But I can’t stop the storm inside. Everything hurts—and the only thing that could make it better isn’t here.

“You are,” Cordelia retorts, her voice now edged with anger. “You’re acting like you didn’t just survive a mission that would’ve killed most people ten times over. You’realive. That matters.”

Her words sting more than I expect, especially coming from her. But I can’t hold back.

“Does it?” My voice cracks on the words. “Because if she doesn’t look at me the same—if she’safraidof me—then what was the fucking point?”

“You didn’t just survive,” Jonathan says quietly as he steps into the room. His presence fills the space, calm and steady. “You made choices out there. You put yourself last. You saved the hostages. You saved your team. You saved…” His voice falters. “Me.”

He hesitates, and the next words come as if they cost him everything.

“That’s not something a monster does.”

The room seems to hold its breath.

Jonathan stands there—solid and sure—but there’s no coldness in him. Just a quiet, shaky uncertainty, like he’s trying to cross a chasm he never thought he’d have to. His eyes flick to Caspian, then to Cordelia, and finally back to me, searching for… I don’t even know what.

“I’d like a minute with him,” he says, his voice soft but firm.

Caspian goes rigid. “No.”

“Tide,” Jonathan tries again, attempting a calm and formal tone.

“No,” Caspian snaps, louder and angrier. “He just woke up. He needs rest. He doesn’t need some dramatic father-son heart-to-heart while he’s still bleeding and disoriented.”

Cordelia shakes her head, already stepping toward the bed as if she’s ready to defend me with her bare hands if necessary. “I don’t like it either. Not now. Not yet. He’s too—”

“I’m right here.” My voice is thin, but I force it out. “I’m not deaf. I’m not dead.”

I swallow hard, fighting the lump in my throat, and look at Caspian.

“Cas… It’s okay.”

The look he gives me is one of pure heartbreak, as if I’ve betrayed him without intending to. His voice drops, heavy with the weight of hell.

“No, it’snot. You almost died, Moe. I’ve been sitting here for three days, wondering if I’d have to plan another funeral.”

My throat tightens because I know the impact that would have had on him but I don’t know how to apologizein a way that would make any of this better.