Free The Wounded (The Woodlands Series) by Lauren Nicolle Taylor Page A

breathed out after days of holding it in.
    The space was divided into rectangles . Families had claimed these painted sections, squatting down, tending to small pots of food being heated on battery-operated hot plates. One man quietly stacked and un-stacked tinned food into various versions of pyramids. I frowned. There was only one word for this, a sad, lonely word—loss.
    I felt it too. My eyes scanned the swarm of people, looking for Joseph or Orry. I could still hear Hessa screaming, his voice hoarse and ragged. He sounded distressed. Inconsolable.
    But I couldn’t think of Hessa now, not yet. I turned to the door. I thought, If he’s not here, I’m going to go and find him . I imagined Joseph and Orry wrapped in an ashy blanket at the bottom of the crater and felt bile rise in my throat.
    Bile that was nearly squeezed out of me as I was lifted off the ground.
     
    *****
     
    I was held up above the crowd. My eyes snatched a glimpse of Orry cradled in Odval’s arms. A deep pressure in my chest released, and I could finally breathe without the deep splinters of worry poking my lungs. The arms around me spun my body to face their owner’s. I smiled, feeling weightless in my relief. I wrapped my arms around Joseph’s neck and sunk into his embrace. It felt like a year had passed since I had seen him. A year since I’d left him.
    His hands pressed into my back and pulled me closer. My hair flapped over his face. I felt him breathing me in as I was doing him, savoring the moment. I knew it couldn’t last. I knew he’d be angry with me. My body tensed at the thought of it, bracing. And just as I expected, he dropped me to the ground like a hot coal.
    But he didn’t let go of me, and I wrapped my strength around that thought. He put his hands on my waist and stared at me with such intensity that I recoiled. He was angry. I knew it. I opened my mouth to apologize, but nothing came out. All I could do was stare at his beautiful face, his glowing eyes.
    He looked sad, and something burned behind his eyes I didn’t quite understand. I felt singed under his gaze. His voice grumbled, almost a growl. “I don’t care what you say. I don’t care if I’m as loud a hundred elephants stomping behind you. Wherever you go, I’m going with you.”
    I took a step back. Confused. He was angry. He was supposed to be. He should be punishing me. And maybe that’s what I would have done. But he was different. He was better.
    I leaned back on one leg and pounced at him. He lifted me up, and I felt that chuckle, that deep rumble in his chest there to cure me. I put my lips to his ear and whispered, “Ok.” The built-up fear and loneliness I had been feeling these past weeks toppled down, leaving me exposed, naked, and suddenly clear. I let it go and with it, any composure I thought I’d managed to hold onto. I erupted into sobs. “Take me to my son,” I managed in between tears and quick breathing.
     
    *****
     
    Seeing Orry again felt like my body snapping back into place, like the rib that was broken found its rough end and fused back together smoothly with the others. Odval handed him to me gently, pressing him into my chest like a puzzle piece. I sat down on the oily concrete floor and let him fit.
    I held him close and pressed my nose to his head. He smelled the same. His soft hair tickled my skin, and joy surged through me. Everything that I had, everything that I was clutching onto, didn’t seem to matter. He was safe. Joseph was safe. I sighed in relief, feeling the ghosts catch and snag on the outtake.
    I ran my hands gently over Orry’s little brow; he smiled up at me like no time had passed. “Where’s Hessa, Deshi, and the others? I want to see them. Deshi’s going to want to hear how well his key contraptions worked,” I said, looking up at Joseph, who stood over us, his hand resting gently on my shoulder.
    He dipped his head. I watched him hold his breath, his eyebrows pulled together, and then he ran one