It was ten oâclock at night before Rose could harass a nurse enough to sign off on her discharge papers. Days passed in the hospital, but Rose tried not to zone back into reality after Henry left. He did what she asked and waited for her to fall asleep. When she asked she didnât know how hard it was going to be waking up alone.
She spent a few more days falling in and out of sleep after that cruel awakening. Each time she woke, Rose had to come to terms with the loneliness. A nurse told her that brother visited a few times but insisted on not waking her. She could only assume that was Phil, who had too much time on his hands for grieving.
Rose was on her way home now, walking in the dark. The same streets she roamed with a sword in hand, slaying zombies and demons. She survived the Hunger Games, she survived Elfhame, she survived saying goodbye to Henry in Star Wars references. She lived through it all and made it here, standing on the sidewalk in front of the house she rented with Pacifica. Rose was in the clothes she left in, minus the chain mail shirt, that had been confiscated by the RAS. They had been laundered by the hospital staff, but the tear right through the middle let the light breeze ripple against her abdomen.
When she made it inside, excited footsteps clicked down the stairs to greet her. And before she even got the light on, her dog pounced on her.
Rose winced at the sudden force, sending pain up her torso, âArya, hi! Oh, I missed you too! Down.â Roseâs heart soared from the depths it had lived in for days now, until it plummeted back down with a realization. Raptor wasnât here.
She had come to terms that being dead meant the Huntsclan would make an express trip to her home. Theyâd take anything linking her to them, anything that even suggested she existed amongst their ranks. The knives, the bows, the logbooks. Her data would be erased and everything would be left spotless. As if it never happened. Pacifica would be none the wiser unless she caught them in the act. It was a slim chance of that though. But Rose did not think in a million years that her father would come himself and take her dog. No one else would have.
The sinking feeling brought her to her knees. Rose crumbled and cried for the fourth time that week. Arya dropped down with her and laid next to her owner as she gasped for air between sobs. Rose wasnât sure if it was all about her dog being stolen from her, or that it took her dying for her father to visit. She hadnât seen him in two years and she never would again. And even though he was more of a drill sergeant than a dad, there would always be a gaping hole that he made within her.
