An Astronomer's Guide to Falling Angels

Chapter 32

Arty lay in the sterile, cold hospital bed, staring at the ceiling as the early morning light filtered through the window. It was six in the morning, and the world outside was just beginning to wake up. But for Arty, it felt as if time had stopped altogether.

The past few days had blurred together in a haze of grief, disbelief, and numbness. The hospital staff had prescribed her psychiatric medication after her breakdown, but it didn't seem to make a difference. The world around her remained muted, like she was seeing it all through a thick fog.

Oda, Louis, and Lukas had all been by her side as much as they could. They were devastated by what had happened to Astor, and it showed in every word they spoke, every glance they shared. None of them thought they'd ever recover from this—how could they? Losing someone like Astor was like losing a piece of their own souls.

Arty leaned back into her pillow, trying to find some semblance of comfort, but there was nothing. She felt hollow, as though every part of her had been scooped out, leaving only an empty shell behind. And in that emptiness, her mind drifted back to a time long ago, to when she had first met Astor.

It was years ago. They were both twelve. Arty had been a troubled kid, angry at the world and everyone in it. Her home life was a nightmare, filled with violence and fear, and she carried that darkness with her wherever she went. By then, almost everyone had given up on her. The teachers at school barely tried anymore, and the other students avoided her like the plague. Arty had become used to the isolation, almost welcomed it. It was easier to push people away before they could hurt her.

But one day, everything changed.

Arty had been called into the principal's office. She remembered sitting in that stiff chair, her heart pounding in her chest, fully expecting to be expelled. She'd been in trouble too many times, and this time, she was sure it would be the last straw. She'd braced herself for the worst, ready to storm out and never look back.

But then, something unexpected happened.

Instead of hearing the principal's voice condemning her, she heard someone else. A soft, calm voice—one she didn't recognize. She looked up and saw a boy standing there, his blonde hair slightly tousled, his blue eyes wide and earnest. He was the student council president, she was told. His name was Astor Darling.

Arty had never met him before. She had no idea why he was there or why he was looking at her like that, with something almost like... hope?

"She's not a bad person," Astor had said to the principal, his voice firm but gentle. "She just needs someone to help her. Please, don't expel her. Let me tutor her. I'll make sure she doesn't get into trouble again."

Arty had been stunned. No one had ever spoken up for her before. No one had ever thought she was anything other than a lost cause. But here was this boy, this angelic-looking boy, pleading with the principal on her behalf. He believed in her, even though he'd never met her.

It was a feeling Arty had never experienced before—someone believing she was good. It scared her, made her feel vulnerable in a way she didn't understand. But at the same time, it lit something inside her, a tiny flicker of hope she hadn't felt in years.

The principal had agreed to Astor's proposal, albeit reluctantly. And so, in the following weeks, Astor began tutoring Arty after school. At first, she was distant, defensive, not wanting to let her guard down. But Astor was persistent, patient. He never seemed to be afraid of her, even though she could tell he was a little nervous. Maybe he was just unsure of how to get through to her.

But slowly, he did.

They would meet in the library, where Astor would go over her schoolwork with her. He was always so kind, so gentle, never raising his voice or getting frustrated, even when she didn't understand something. He would smile at her whenever she made progress, and Arty found herself doing everything she could to earn that smile. It was strange—she'd never cared about anyone's opinion before, but with Astor, she cared so much it hurt.