Chapter 51: "The Quiet Between Us"
The room was too quiet without Jasmine.
No whispered check-ins.
No soft footsteps pacing the floor.
No warm hand clutching hers when she had nightmares.
Just silence. Cold, hollow silence.
Zariah stared at the empty chair Jasmine used to curl into. It still held the imprint of her — a sweater left hanging on the back, a half-full bottle of water beside it. A ghost of someone still alive.
She wanted to call her.
To say "I'm sorry."
To say "Don't leave."
But she didn't.
The weight in her chest made it hard to move, hard to breathe. She buried her face in her pillow and let the stillness press down on her like a wall.
The nurse came in, smiled gently, and set down her lunch tray. "You should try something today, love."
Zariah didn't respond.
The nurse paused, then glanced at the untouched dinner and breakfast trays still on the cart by the wall. She sighed softly and left.
Zariah's stomach growled, but she ignored it. The hunger was almost comforting now — something sharp and familiar. Like the ache in her wrists. Like the knot in her throat.
"I love you. Even if you don't want to hear it."
Jasmine's words echoed.
Zariah rolled over, squeezing her eyes shut. Why did she push her away? Jasmine had been the only one trying. The only one who saw her.
But in the moment — in the hurt and the haze — pushing was easier than holding on.
The ache twisted deeper. She imagined Jasmine in her room, crying. Or maybe not crying at all. Maybe done. Maybe walking away for good.
That thought hurt more than anything else.
What if I already lost her?
The tears came slowly — not loud or messy, but quiet, like her grief had finally given up screaming.
Zariah turned her face toward the wall, whispering into the silence, "I didn't mean it."
No one heard her.
But maybe tomorrow… she'd try to say it out loud.