Lake seems to soften at the haunted look that surfaces in my eyes when I mention the Dark King. "How are you feeling?"
                          
When was the last time someone asked me this? I can't even remember. It's...nice. 
                          
But reality comes crashing back seconds later. Lake has no idea exactly who I am and how much I can do. The answer is more than he thinks. Much more.
                          
So I turn away, staring out the window. I still tell him more than I would to anyone else. "I'm okay," on the outside, "but that doesn't mean that it doesn't hurt."
                          
He nods, and I can practically hear him contemplating if he should ask me how, exactly, I recovered so quickly.
                          
Thankfully, he doesn't, instead starting toward the door. The thought of how I'm not normal has probably reminded him how he doesn't want to be near me. "I should go."
                          
I don't disagree. You really should.

                          
~

                          
When there's a knock on my door, I instantly sit up, then regret it as the stitches in my back tug painfully. 
                          
I expect Kye to walk in, ready to attempt questioning me, but it's Zyair who enters. He appears somber, not at all like he was earlier.
                          
"What is it?" I ask rather rudely. 
                          
He appears unfazed. "I have a question."
                          
Great. Just great. Another question. "I presume Kye sent you? Well, I'm not telling you anything, so you might as well leave."
                          
He shakes his head. "No, Kye didn't send me. And my question doesn't concern..." his eyes trail over me, especially my hair, right eye, and black hands, "your unique attributes."
                          
"Fine," I say. "What's your question?"
                          
He gives me a small, strained smile. "You were in the castle, right?"
                          
I nod. 
                          
"Did you ever see a girl a bit shorter than you, with long brown hair, brown eyes, and always wearing a jade necklace?"
                          
I think for a minute, but don't recall a girl of that description. "No. Why?"
                          
He seems almost relieved. "No reason."
                          
Eyeing me sprawled on the bed, he raises an eyebrow. "What are you doing?"
                          
"What does it look like I'm doing?"
                          
He shrugs. "Nothing."
                          
I've been slowly stretching my arms, legs, sides, and back, but he doesn't have to know that. The better suited my stitches are to movement, the faster I will be able to get out of this house and away from these suspicious people.
                          
"Why don't you come downstairs with me? Neve just got home with dinner. She got some more broth for you." Zyair says, his voice so sincere that it hurts.
                          
What hurts even more is that Neve actually thought of me and got me broth. But I don't say that. I don't say anything.
                          
Zyair waits another minute for an answer, then leaves with a sigh. 
                          
When I hear his footsteps fade away, I sit up from the bed and head to the washroom. Luckily, there's one connected to the bedroom, so I don't have to go far.
                          
I stare myself in the mirror, but I don't recognize the haunted girl staring back at me. It's hard to believe that a year ago, I could still smile, even though I knew who I was. I look away quickly, not wanting to see myself for who I truly am.
                          
Now, I am a shell of who I was, full of nightmares in a damaged brain. It's a silent madness, wondering when I will lose the fight raging inside of me, for I am holding on, but barely. Gripping whatever humanity I can to keep it together.