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Moiety
Chapter Twenty Five: Leather-Bound
Kolyat stands in the blaring light of the hospital window. The prayer book is heavy in his hands, the leather years-worn and pages crackling like cinders.
On the bed beside him, Thane's breath rattles from him like the brittle branches of autumn in a wayward wind.
Kolyat reads the prayers aloud until the words have become one breath, one ache in his lungs. A single, even lull, stretching far and deep, like the absence of his father those many years ago.
Like the space between their hands now.
A chasm as empty as leather-bound prayers in a voice like winter.