I want so badly for him to tell me I’m right, that of course it isn’t mine madness, of course it isn’t fatal. Instead, he says nothing. He stays frozen, hunched over the railing on his elbows, hands clutched tightly in front of him.
“I don’t know, Theo,” he says finally. “I don’t think I am…sick,” he says, unable to utter mine-mad either. “But I’ve never really felt like I was blessed either.”
The confession comes out in a whisper lost in the night air, never to be spoken of again. I wonder if this is the first time he’s said the words out loud.
I touch his shoulder, forcing him to face me before placing my hand on his chest, where I know he bears a mark, right over his heart. “I’ve seen what you can do, Richard,” I tell him. “Glaidi blessed you, I know it. Maybe your power is different
