She kept her eyes on Atticus, safer than looking up at Aiden. He was sleeping, but it didn’t seem to be a restful sleep, and worry started to grow in the back of her mind. She wondered if she should call someone. She half remembered him mentioning roomates to Atticus while she was too busy talking to James to pay attention. She’d have to think of a way to get in touch with them soon.
She found herself wondering what it must be like to do what Aiden did. It must be a very lonely life. A sad life, collecting the dead. Sometimes against their will. And his description of what happened if he didn’t take them was enough to make her stomach flop. She frowned and looked down at the pattern on the blankets in front of her, wondering how often that happened, and at the same time, thankful that it hadn’t happened to James.
She nodded slowly, briefly turning her head to look at him and then remembering why she’d been looking away. “I do. I have...a friend,” she said. Sadie, though she didn’t think she’d put all this on her, at least not yet. She needed to work through all of this on her own first.