Orion's POV
I stood outside her door for a solid minute before knocking. My hand was raised, frozen in the air like some kind of i***t. What the hell was I doing?
This wasn't me. I didn't do the whole comfort thing. That was Jeremy's job, or even Caspian's lately with his damn philosophy books. I was the guy who fixed problems with my fists or a scalpel. Clean. Clinical. Done.
But I couldn't stop thinking about her face in the library. The way she'd looked at her mother—not with anger, but with nothing. Pure, devastating nothing. And then the panic attack, her body seizing up, convinced she was dying.
I knocked. Soft. Not my usual sharp rap.
"Come in." Her voice was flat. Empty.
She sat curled in the window seat, knees pulled to her chest, staring out at the gardens. She didn't turn
