Timber

Chapter Sixty: Victor's Parade

Hazel squinted as Festus pushed her into the blindingly bright fluorescent light of the hospital corridors. Peacekeepers and staff lined the sterile hallways. She forced herself to smile and nod, receiving a few waves and smiles in return, while others watched her with curiosity. Their expressions ranged from admiration to pity. Though each gesture felt like a betrayal of her true feelings, she kept her chin up, determined to swallow down her discomfort.

She was rushed into a bland elevator, and soon, Hazel found herself staring at the large glass doors at the hospital's entrance. Beyond them, barriers held back a throng of people. Press members and their cameras lined the front. Flashes glittered across the crowd like a sea of tiny stars. Many were decorated in vibrant hues and bold accessories. Hazel ran a finger over her hand as she caught several pink armbands in the crowd.

She let out a shaky breath, tightening her grip on the rose. Even sheltered within the hospital, the energy of the gathering seeped through the glass.

Indira slid closer, pulling several tissues from one of the bags she carried. She bent forward and tucked them into the sleeves of Hazel's jacket. "Just in case," Indira murmured.

"Won't the people think it weak to see me cry?" Hazel chewed on her lip.

"It would be odd if you didn't, dear. It humanizes you."

Bitterness coiled in her stomach as Hazel stared back at the pulsating crowd outside the windows. The sheer number of people, all there for her, was almost too much to bear. The noise, the colors, the vigor of their presence—it was wholly overwhelming.

The familiar brown-eyed peacekeeper approached Indira, "Our escort is arriving now."

"Thank you, Private Drayton," Indira replied.

Drayton? Peacekeeper Drayton nodded to Indira, meeting Hazel's puzzled stare for a moment before turning away and focusing on the animated people outside.

Festus's thick hand gripped Hazel's arm, pulling her attention back to the task at hand as he whispered, "Remember, we're here with you."

She nodded, and he pushed forward. The doors were pulled open by the peacekeepers, and the crowd's roar hit her like a physical force. So many people were calling her name at once; it was unnerving. She plastered on a respectful smile and waved to the crowd. Despite her best efforts, she knew she still could not fully mask the sorrow in her face.

A convoy of glossy, sleek, dark grey cars pulled through the throng, pausing right in front of her wheelchair. As the back door flung open, with Festus' help, she climbed inside as soon as she was close enough, dragging her casted foot behind her. The car's interior offered a dim sanctuary from the chaotic energy outside. As the doors clicked shut, the noise died away. The brief respite allowed her to catch her breath, though her nerves remained on edge.

Festus and Indira joined her in the car, along with a couple of Peacekeepers. "Whew, it's little more than I had even anticipated," Festus replied, staring out the tinted windows.

The familiar brown-eyed Peacekeeper settled in across from Hazel, her gaze sharp and assessing of the crowd. Hazel studied her face; there was something familiar about her sharp features. Her irises were similar to Percy's, but her face was shaped more like Leo's.

Hazel stared at her as she did her best to ignore the dull rumble on the other side of the car door. The silence stretched, filled only with the soft hum of the car's engine. Hazel gripped the rose so tightly that she could feel the stitches straining in her injured palm.

Hazel finally addressed the peacekeeper before her when she could no longer stand the silence, "Private Drayton?"

Brown eyes met hers. "Yes, ma'am." She replied.