The air felt thinner when Lucas and I walked out of the throne room. I kept my expression flat. I didn't want to cry. I didn't want to feel anything.
We turned a corner, and then like fate was laughing—I ran straight into Jesse.
He stumbled a step before catching himself. "Bella," he said, surprised. Then, smiling. "You're back."
I stared at him. His hair was tousled, eyes too bright, lips too softspoken. So infuriatingly carefree. He had no idea what we had just been told.
"Can we talk?" he asked.
I forced a smile. "Let's do that later tonight. I need to rest right now."
"Oh—sure," he said, but his smile didn't fade. "Tonight, then."
He lingered for a second too long before finally walking away.
Lucas and I said nothing until we were alone again, heading down the hall toward the east wing.
"You okay?" he asked finally.
"No," I said.
