Gaven
The light doesn't vanish all at once. It recedes slowly, like a tide pulling back from the shore, leaving the room hushed and humming with something I can't name. My heart is pounding hard enough that I can feel it in my throat. I keep my body perfectly still, afraid that if I move too quickly, whatever is plaguing Fern will shatter and she will be hurt forever.
Fern's body trembles beneath me. Her eyes are closed, and there is color in her cheeks, but it doesn't make me believe that she is alive.
"Fern," I whisper, my voice hoarse.
Her lashes flutter. Her breath comes in shallow pulls, chest rising and falling unevenly. I slide an arm beneath her shoulders, cradling her carefully, pressing my forehead to her temple as if I can anchor her here through sheer will alone.
