“I don’t know, Hetty,” she says. “Is it really friendship with you and Byatt?”
I’ve wondered. Of course I have. And I love Byatt more than anything, more than myself, more than the life I had before Raxter. But I know the warmth in my heart when I look at her. How it burns smooth and even, without a spark.
“Yes,” I say. “She’s my sister, Reese. She’s part of me.”
Reese frowns and sits up, swings her legs over the edge of her bunk. “Look, I get it’s not my business—”
“You apparently feel the need to comment on it anyway.”
“Because it affects me,” she says, and I’m taken aback by the sting in her voice, by the snarl of her lips. “I like Byatt, okay? But I don’t want you to be with me the way you are with her.”
“You don’t want us to be friends?”
Reese sighs like I’ve said something wrong, like there’s something more I’m supposed to understand. “No,” she says plainly, “I don’t.”
I can’t pretend it doesn’t send me reeling. “Well, that’s—” I start, but there’s nothing after, just an emptiness, and not as much surprise as I’d like. “Okay,” I finish at last, and head for the door. I can hear Reese saying my name, but I don’t listen, just yank the door open and hurry out into the hallway.