Carissa shoved open the door to her room, her formerly withheld tears wetting her cheeks. Though words couldn’t break bones, they were certainly capable of bleeding hearts.
Arms folded around her. Elon’s. He’d been waiting for her.
She sank into his embrace, until she remembered: he had foresight. He’d sent her to her mother, knowing exactly what would happen. She tore aware from him, and when his grip on her didn’t loosen quickly enough, she shoved his chest. “You knew—” Sobs overtook her words, and she pressed a fist to her mouth to stifle them.
Elon cupped her face and slid his thumb across her cheek, smearing her tear tracks across her skin. “I did know.”
“Then why?” Grief so ravaged her voice she barely recognized it as her own.
When Elon took her into his arms again, she didn’t resist. After all, Elon was one of the few people who offered his touch regardless of the circumstances. Carissa thought back to how her mother how darted away from her and flinched.
He didn’t reply, simply tucked her against him and held her as though she were made of glass, ready to break at a moment’s notice. Or maybe she was already broken, and he feared being cut by the shards.