Chapter 21

Croc joined me a few moments later, carrying a pot of hot water, a rag, and the supplies Danny had given him. Most of my injuries were superficial, minor scratches, but one cut across my knee was deep and by the time he arrived, blood coated the entire top of my leg to my ankle.

Croc shook his head, then gently went about washing the blood away.

"I can do it." I reached for the towel.

He pulled it out of reach and set back to work without comment. The whole while, he wouldn't meet my eyes, and I couldn't say I blamed him. I'd messed up, badly, and the last thing I deserved was Croc's brand of sweet, placating words. I didn't deserve comfort. Not while Eve was still unconscious because of my misjudgment.

We were silent as he cleared the blood, applied the ointment, placed band aids to hold the cut together, then wrapped it all in a thick white bandage. By the time he was finished, the floor around him was a mess.

"I forgot about them. It didn't even cross my mind until I saw the boat." My voice was small. "I shouldn't have let her go so far. I should have never let it happen."

He shook his head as he gathered the scraps of cloth and trash from the floor. "You made an honest mistake in a place you still don't fully understand." He finally looked up at me. "It's my job to protect you both." His gaze shifted to the gauze he'd applied, and his jaw clenched. "This is my failure." He stood quickly and left the room, closing the door behind him and leaving me there to finish.

I grabbed a towel from under the sink and numbly dried my hair and skin. My clothes were still soaked, but I hadn't brought any new ones with me. I didn't apply the ointment to my skin. I relished the pain, letting it wrap around me. The pain meant that I was still alive, that I'd survived, yet again, and I hoped that meant Eve would, too. She had to. She deserved it so much more. I'd used my nine lives. I'd had my fair share. She was so young, so much better, so much more worthy.

                                          🐊🐊🐊

The sun rose and fell until it felt as if it fell first and rose second. Up was down, and left was right, and all was a mess expect for the little girl who slept, too peaceful for the chaos her slumber created.

Julia took care of Eric, assuring him Eve was only tired after her hard swim. He believed her easily, believed us all. He placed his trust in us, the same way Eve had placed her trust in me.

Croc tried to get me to eat and became angry for the first time when I refused. He was an even bigger mess than I was, and the situation was taking a toll on him. He was testy, tense, and spent most of his time the same as I did. Staring at the couch. At her. Waiting.

Julia, once again, proved how much stronger she was than any of us. She kept to her routine, took care of Eric, and made sure we had everything we needed. She took the hardship like she had undoubtedly taken a hundred others. She met it head on and all but told it to kiss her ass. She kept Eve clean and would occasionally lift her head to try and get her to take water or vegetable broth, and sometimes, she succeeded.

I helped her whenever I could. I made the broth, stroked Eve's hair and offered praise I wasn't sure she could hear. I noted every change. Her healing skin, her returned color. I counted her heartbeats and watched her chest rise and fall. Sometimes, my mind would play tricks on me, and I'd panic for a moment, sure I was imagining the subtle movement. But a hand against her ribs would assure me that wasn't the case, and I'd return to the routine. Watching. Watching. Waiting and thinking.

Every time I closed my eyes, my mind reminded me of who I was and where I'd been. I saw foster siblings I'd long forgotten, scenes I'd blocked out years before. I saw my failures, lined up one by one, presented as evidence of my own guilt.

I'd always known my place. People had a role. Some had nice lives. Others didn't. I hadn't been born to have nice things, a family. I had none of those blood connections, no identity, and my choices had always been poor. Foster siblings had been beaten while I hid and said nothing. People had been dragged away while I fought to get home and save myself. How many hungry children had I passed at the store? How many ration tickets could I have spared? Julia had a garden full of vegetables. I could have done more. I could have helped more, had I been better. Had I been that kind of person. Then Lita, Eve's mother, someone who would have probably protected her far better than I, being dragged away while I sat and watched, unspeaking.

Why had I been spared? Why was I here and not the others? Those were the questions that haunted me. Out of all the injustice, that was the one I couldn't live with. I tossed and turned and begged the images to stop, until Croc pulled me upright and shoved a plate of breakfast into my lap. "You're going to eat that, Willow, even if I have to feed it to you."

I shook my head and sat up to check Eve. "I'm not hungry."

He pushed me back down. "I didn't ask," he said, lifting a raspberry to my lips.

A raspberry. Who was I to have a raspberry when she couldn't? She'd earned it. She'd said so herself, and she'd been right. She deserved to have everything, all the things I'd never had, and I'd robbed her of that. I'd robbed her and so many others. I shoved his hand away. "Stop."

"Dammit, Willow!"

My eyes widened, staring at his tense and worn face. He'd never swore before. He hadn't even attempted to pick up any of the words Julia used so frequently, and the stark shock of hearing him do so was like a bucket of water being dumped onto my face. It woke me up and forced me to the present. He was pale, and the lines around his eyes and mouth seemed deeper, haggard. "Eat," he said. "Please."

I bowed my head, examining the plate, then broke a piece of the fish off between two fingers and numbly shoved it into my mouth. It had no flavor, no substance, but I swallowed it and met his gaze.

He visibly relaxed. "That's good. Eat some more. Here." He lifted it. "Have some more fish."

I couldn't deny him, not when he looked so desperate for me to comply. I finished the fish and pushed the plate away, unable to bring myself to eat any more.

Croc sighed. "Good." He rose, leaning over Eve and pressing his palm against her forehead, then her chest. "She stirred earlier. While you were sleeping."

I shot upright and pushed him away to check for myself. "When? How did she do it? Do you think she's waking up?"

Croc was quiet a moment, then a second later, he draped his arm across my back and drew me away like a child. He settled me into his lap, locked me into a vice like hold, and pressed his chin to the top of my head. "I think she will," he said, words rough. "I think she's going to be okay." He rocked me back and forth, and my first instinct was to pull away. But I didn't, because something told me he wasn't doing it for my comfort, but his own.

I stared at Eve, letting Croc sway us both as I watched for the slightest sign she was lucid. She had to be okay. I needed her to be okay. If she could just wake up now, I'd do whatever I needed to do. I'd give whatever needed to be given, make whatever deal needed to be made. But there were no deals. There was nobody to make it with, and whatever battle Eve was fighting, she was fighting it alone.

As if sensing my panic, Croc shushed me. "She'll be okay," he murmured against my hair. "Danny checked her heart, and he said it's stronger. She hasn't stopped breathing again, and she swallowed the whole bowl of soup this morning. She's okay." Each word he spoke echoed his own relief and soothed my tattered nerves like a balm.

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I opened my eyes and realized quickly where I was. Croc still held me, swaying gently like he'd been whenever I'd fallen asleep, but the darkness outside let me know it had to have been hours since I'd blacked out. "How long?" I asked, voice hoarse.

"You were exhausted," he stated, the words echoing his own fatigue.

I peeked up at his face. Shadows clung deeper to the skin beneath his eyes, and he was even more drawn than he'd been that morning.

I tried to sit up, but he held me firm.

"Croc," I said. "You're tired. Get some sleep. I'll watch her for a—"

"No." He pulled me back like a child refusing to relinquish his toy. "Stay here. It's...it's comforting."

I sighed and fell limp, allowing him to scrunch me up like a doll as I studied his expression. His attention stayed glued to Eve.

"I wanted to hold her, too. But Julia said no," he said. "When she wakes up, I'm never going to let her out of my sight again."

My heart ached, and a fresh wave of guilt made my chest tighten and clench. "It isn't your fault, Croc. It's mine. I was supposed to be watching her."

"You saved her," he said.

"From the danger I put her in." I cupped his face and forced him to meet my gaze. He had to understand. I couldn't pretend anymore. I wouldn't do that, not to him, not to Eve, not to all the wonderful things in this place. All this time, I'd been accusing the world of lies. I'd judged Danny's disguise, the officials, the buildings, the government, and all along, I'd been just as bad. I'd been just the same, and I didn't want to lie anymore. I didn't want to pretend. "You don't deserve any of the blame in this. It was all me. My fault. Do you understand?"

He heaved a tired sigh. "I know every danger here, Willow. It didn't start when you arrived, and it hadn't stopped just because I'd grown complacent. I was too wrapped up in my own happiness, and I got sloppy, reckless. It was stupid of me to let you two go off alone, and I'm sorry." He pulled me closer, burying his face into my neck as his breaths shuddered and words broke apart. "I'm so sorry."

I circled my arms around his head and held him tighter, stroking his hair and offering the same comfort he'd offered me. "This isn't my first failure, Croc. It's not your fault." I kissed his temple. "It isn't. Not at all."

We both fell quiet, unmoving, locked together as if we were each the only thing keeping the other from falling apart.

"Willow, are you done?" a small voice whispered. "Can I have my raspberries, now?"

I scrambled away from him, and he was too shocked to stop me. We broke apart, stumbling in our hurry to reach her. Eve was upright. She was awake. She was sitting with the blankets gathered at her waist as if she'd just woken from a nap instead of a five-day coma.

She blinked at us with glowing, neon green eyes.