Ava
The soft sound of the curtain brushing aside was all that broke the eerie silence as we stepped into Degas’s hospital room. I felt my breath catch the instant I saw him hooked up to all those machines again, just days after he had been here before.
For a moment, I almost turned and fled—but then Degas cracked his red-rimmed eyes open, seeing us, and held out a shaky hand to beckon us forward.
“Chris… Ava…”
Chris and I exchanged wary glances before we hesitantly stepped into the room and shut the curtain behind us. My legs felt like they might give out, and Chris, noticing the wobble in my stature, gestured to the chair beside Degas’s bed. I took it and sat beside the Elder, unsure of what to do.
“Elder Degas.” Chris was the first to break the silence, politely bowi
