…what am I going to do?
Calum cried himself to sleep last night, recounting to all of us (for we spent last night in the hospital room with May and Constance and the others in an outlier of events) his daily life at his home in the Wendor region of Gehenna,. Apparently it’s not always called Gehenna-Altaris with the hyphen, only when both regions are being referred to at the same time. But the two countries are good friends with each other, and there’s never been a war, so I don’t think anybody really cares all that much.
“Ophelia, you should probably eat more, and better stuff to boot. We’ve weighed you, and we’ve done all sorts of scans, and you’re malnourished.”
“Doctor, I’m telling you, until a few weeks ago, my mind was a galaxy floating in space and my body was… you know, I don’t know what Allaketo was doing with the person who used to be in my body. I don’t know how to do this stuff.” I scratched the back of my head, hoping that the professional-looking woman sitting in a stool in front of me, looking sterile in the harsh lights of the checkup room, wouldn’t see how nervous I was.
“We have a treatment program that we use for people with eating disorders. We could help you treat your body better.”
“I.. I’ll think about it. Just don’t let Calum know, please. He’s been kind of pushy when the others aren’t around, thinking that we shouldn’t trust you doctors just because you could turn us over to Allaketo at any moment.”
“Why would we do that?” She placed one hand on her chest, four fingers outstretched, a kind of salute to the throne in Zorphia according to Maxine. “I want Emma back in the throne as much as the rebels do.”