Chapter 9 Fragments of Awakening

The white ceiling tiles blurred as I stared at them. My body was too weak to do much else. The more I thought about things, the more difficult it was to come to terms with the idea that I'd really been in a coma for a month. My memories remained a patchwork of confusion with loose fragments that refused to align. My mom holding me as I broke down in her arms was the clearest image. I could still recall the dream, but everything after that felt hazy, heavily drowned with fog I couldn't seem to walk past. A soft knock broke through the silence.

I turned my head, catching the moment Becca slipped into the room. Her usually cold eyes widened slightly when she saw me, and she let out a breath. Relief flickered across her face-genuine relief. I blinked in surprise. "Harlyn," she said, stepping closer to my bed. "You're awake." I shifted against the pillows, my body protesting the movement with a subtle sting of pain. "Barely." My voice was hoarse, shaken in tone by her demeanor. She actually looked... worried. She shifted to sit on the stool by my bed, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve. "How are you feeling?" "Like I've been sleeping a long time," I muttered, my brain still trying to piece things together. "What do you know?" "You've been here a while," she said vaguely, her gaze dropping for a moment. I hummed in response noting she didn't really know much. She must have just heard the news from passing words on the street. My mom had never really met her as my friend so I doubted she told Becca. My friendship with Becca was complicated, to say the least. She came around Springville around the time I was rejected. Things were hard then with the side snickering and the escalating bullying. She was one of the few refugees from a dissolved pack. She had given me a change of clothes when I'd been downed with mop water once and we'd been oddly friends since. But her unwillingness to draw any attention to herself has our friendship operating in secret. Becca was usually hard to read, tough in her ways of life, and sometimes harsh with her words. I'd never seen her worried before. "A lot has happened in school. I thought you'd want to know." She suddenly spoke up. "Tell me." I braced myself. Becca hesitated, then leaned forward slightly. "Tess has been running her mouth, telling everyone the fight at the crossroad was your fault. She said you provoked her because you were jealous." "What?" I forced myself to sit up, ignoring the sharp pull in my chest. "That's a lie! I didn't-" "I know," Becca interrupted, her tone steady. "Not everyone believed her. Some guy, Kale? Khalid? He defended you." "Khalid?" The name sent a pang of conflicting emotions through me. I remembered him, Ethan, Abigail, and their cold demeanor before they literally kicked me out. The memory made my stomach tighten. "Why would he do that?" I mumbled to myself. Becca shrugged. "He told everyone Tess started it, made sure they knew she was lying. Most people believed him, and said he was too hot to be a liar." The perks of being beautiful and liked I suppose. The knot in my chest didn't loosen. It was nice, in a way, to know someone had stood up for me. But Khalid's intentions weren't something I could trust easily, not after what happened. "Right," I muttered, unsure how to feel. Becca watched me carefully before shifting the conversation. "And... Higan," she said, her voice softening. "He's been miserable since this happened." "Higan?" My voice caught on his name with a scoff, the sound of it stirring my hate and something else I didn't want to acknowledge. She nodded. "He's not himself. It's like he's been carrying something heavy related to you and it's not just about you being in a coma." The idea of Higan-my mate, the alpha who'd rejected me so publicly-falling apart because of me was... unexpected. I didn't know what to make of it. Part of me felt curious, wanting to know what could possibly make him so miserable. Another part felt something close to satisfaction. For once, he wasn't untouchable. He wasn't above it all. "Though, it's mostly my speculation," Becca added. "Don't get any ideas, it's probably not because he cares." What she said triggered something sour and it was then I realized it. I almost let the idea exist, the idea that Higan might care. Ridiculous. Her words hung in the air, chipping away at the cold detachment I'd wrapped myself in. I nodded faintly, my throat too tight to respond. Becca stayed seated, her gaze fixed on me as though she were studying something. It wasn't a look I was used to from her-too close to care, too far from her usual coldness. I was tempted to ask what was on her mind. "Have you been feeling... strange since you woke up?" she asked abruptly, her voice quiet but sharp enough to cut through the lull in conversation. I blinked at her with a frown settling, caught off guard. "Strange how?" She shrugged, but the movement was too calculated to be considered casual. "I don't know. Different. Anything unusual?" I thought about it for a moment, frowning deeper. At first, it seemed like an odd question, but the more I considered it, the more I realized there was some truth to it. "Maybe," I admitted slowly. "I mean, I feel... stronger; my mind feels clearer, too. Like I shouldn't, after being out for so long. But it's probably just the aftermath of sleeping for so long." Becca nodded as if this was the answer she'd expected, but the shift in her expression was subtle-just enough for me to notice the edges of her usual cold demeanor slipping back into place. It was odd but the change didn't bother me this time. If anything, I found comfort in the fact that she'd cared enough to ask, even if she tried to hide it behind her usual mask. I let out a small breath, a quiet kind of happiness settling in my chest. Becca cared. She actually cared. Before I could say anything else, the door creaked open again, and my mother walked in. She stopped just inside the room, her eyes immediately locking onto Becca. A furrow grazed her brows but quickly as it came on, it faded. She was still staring at Becca. There was something unreadable in her gaze that made my stomach churn. It wouldn't be nice if my mother didn't like the only friend I'd managed to keep. Becca seemed to notice her prolonged staring, turning her head slightly and meeting my mom's gaze with a composed nod. The tension between them was subtle but sharp, like an undercurrent I couldn't quite place. "I'll see you later," Becca said abruptly, her voice back to its usual clipped tone as she stood. Without waiting for a reply, she strode toward the door, brushing past my mom without another word.