In A Day Or Two

Chapter 9: The Letter

It's been months since I walked away from Xianon with a broken heart. I tried living the way she wanted me to, tried forcing myself to follow her rules, to stay away, to let her "protect" me from the burden of her illness—but I couldn't. Not a single day passed that I didn't think about her. Not a single night where her absence didn't gnaw at me, hollowing my chest.

Edmund has been hanging out with Margaux at the beach, and I avoid going anywhere near them. I've returned to my routine: house, school, and the forest I wanted to show her before life decided to rip us apart. I wandered the old trail I'd carved into the woods years ago, trying to find solace in memories. At the end, something new caught my eye—a small cabin, freshly built, smoke curling gently from its chimney. The chopped wood stacked neatly at the side, an axe resting atop it, suggested someone was living here. I passed by, unsure who, and made my way to the lake in the middle of the forest.

The lake was just as I remembered: calm, serene, a perfect slice of peace untouched by the chaos of my life. I pulled out the small chair I used to hide under as a kid and smiled faintly—it was still there, though overgrown with moss and weeds. I let it be, choosing instead to sit on the soft grass by the water's edge, trying to inhale some of the peace I once knew.

A sudden sound behind me made me tense.

"Francis."

I froze, and then Edmund appeared, sweat glistening on his forehead, catching his breath.

"Not now, Edmund," I snapped, refusing to turn. "I want to be alone."

"No, Francis, please, listen!" He tried to stop me, hand outstretched.

"Just go, Edmund!" I growled, keeping my gaze locked on the lake.

"It's... it's Xianon!" His words came out in a panicked rush.

I scoffed, refusing to believe him. "If this is another prank, I'm not buying it."

"Do I look like I'm joking?!" he shouted, frustration cutting through the wind.

Before I could respond, my world tilted sideways. My chest tightened, my stomach knotted, and a cold, heavy dread settled in my bones. The wind through the trees felt colder, sharper, whispering through the leaves in a cruel mimic of my heartbeat. "What... what happened?" I asked, my voice trembling despite myself.

Edmund hesitated, then finally said the words that made the world feel like it was collapsing around me: "I don't know, Mrs. Pearson just called Margaux crying. Saying she's in the hospital... again."

It felt as though the air had been ripped from my lungs. My knees buckled, and I sat heavily on the grass, staring blankly at the water. The lake's reflection shimmered peacefully, indifferent to the storm consuming me. I thought of her fragile form in my arms the last time I saw her—pale, trembling, whispering that I should stay away. And now, months later, I was powerless again, standing at the edge of her world, desperate and helpless.

Edmund crouched beside me, his hand brushing my back in an attempt to ground me. "Francis, you can't just sit here. She's hurting. You have to be there. You know she wouldn't want you to waste another moment like this."

I shook my head, my fingers digging into the damp earth. "I can't... I can't keep seeing her like this. I don't know if I can handle it." My voice cracked, the sound barely audible above the wind rustling through the trees.

"You have to, Francis. She needs you," Edmund insisted, firm and unwavering.

I swallowed, my chest heavy with grief and fear. Every day without her was unbearable. Every night, I dreamed of her, pale and weak, whispering my name. "She's... she's all I think about, Edmund. Every day, every night... I can't stop. I try to live my life the way she wants, but I can't. I can't..."