Mortal

Once Graeme and August had left the room, the girl who wished to no longer be called Zoe lowered the ice pack from her face and turned to Lucas.

"You don't need to stay here with me. I'll be fine," she told him. "Thank you for the water."

She couldn't understand why he would stay—unless he was guarding her, worried this was an act and would carry out some nefarious plan in his absence. Maybe she would. With the knowledge of what she had done all these years, she couldn't say she trusted herself either.

"Do you want me to leave?" he asked. Maybe he made her uncomfortable and she would be better off recovering alone.

She didn't answer, seemingly suspended in the question he had posed. She didn't know what she wanted, and for once he made it seem like she actually had a choice.

"I don't know… I just. Maybe I'll rest."

"What was your name before you were named Zoe?" he asked. "Or what would you prefer we call you?"