Poison Ivy | Jordan Poole

fifty four.

I am ready for love
If you'll take me in your hands
I will learn what you teach
And do the best that I can

The room felt suffocating, as if the air itself was weighted with all the things neither of them could say. Ivy sat in the plush armchair, the fingers of one hand absently twisting the hem of her sleeve as she stared down at it. It was as if, by focusing on the fabric, she could somehow mend the parts of her heart that felt shattered. Her chest ached with the familiar exhaustion, the kind that made everything feel like it was an uphill battle, and she wasn't sure she had the strength to climb.

Her bruises were fading and her wounds healing but the damage that had been done that day was forever. Priya's last moments and her father's futility would always haunt her in some way.

Across from her, Ebony sat with her usual quiet calm. Ivy had always admired how she could remain so composed, but in moments like this, Ivy knew Ebony understood more than her outward appearance suggested.

"Ivy," Ebony's voice was soft, but steady. "How are you feeling today?"

Ivy took a deep breath, feeling the words get stuck in her throat. She was so used to keeping things inside, to pushing past the pain, but today...today it felt impossible to keep pretending she was okay. The weight of everything; Priya, Ishmael, and all the things that had happened, felt like a mountain that was growing bigger, and she wasn't sure how to move it.

"I'm... I'm trying," Ivy said quietly, her voice distant, as if the words weren't truly hers. "But it's hard, Ebony. I don't know how I'm supposed to feel. About Priya. About Ishmael. About everything that happened."

Ebony nodded, her expression filled with patience and understanding. "Tell me more about what you're feeling about Priya. You've said she wasn't someone you were close to, but she was still family. How does that change the way you're processing everything?"

The mention of Priya's name caught in Ivy's chest like a splinter, and she could feel the sharpness of the memory. The violence. The betrayal. Priya's face twisted in rage flashed before her, and Ivy's throat tightened. She had barely known Priya. They'd been cousins, but they'd never shared more than occasional, distant exchanges. Yet, now, that thin connection felt suffocating.

"I didn't know her well," Ivy exhaled sharply, her voice thick. "But it's not just the loss... it's how it happened. The violence. Watching her... spiral. Knowing she may have tried to end my life to earn the love of a man I barely know... and then seeing her... gone."

The guilt crept up her throat like a bitter taste, making it hard to speak. "I keep wondering... should I have been more vigilant? Could I have done something different?"

Ebony leaned forward, her voice as steady as always, but carrying a softness that Ivy needed to hear. "It's natural to question yourself after something like that, but sometimes the truth is, there's nothing you could have done. Priya made choices, and those choices were beyond your control."

The truth of Ebony's words landed, but it didn't erase the pain. Ivy glanced at her hands, feeling the weight of it all. "But I can't stop seeing her, Ebony. Her face. The rage in her eyes. And Isla... she was there too. She saw everything."

Ebony's gaze softened with understanding. "I think it's time to bring Isla into this, if you're ready. She's been through this with you, and healing together can lighten the load."

Ivy hesitated for a moment before nodding. "Yeah... yeah, it's time."

Ebony made the call, and soon, Isla's face appeared on the screen. Her eyes were heavy despite the soft glam make up she wore, her expression etched with raw emotion. Ivy could see the same exhaustion in Isla's gaze that she felt in her own heart. Isla had been there too; fighting, witnessing, carrying the same pain.