"It takes ten times longer to put yourself back together as it does to fall apart." - Suzanne Collins

People kept apologizing to me.

I didn't quite understand why. It's not like they were at fault for this happening. Deep down I knew that they just didn't know what else to say. It still made me sick to my stomach though to think that all of this could have prevented. Dad could have done something. Mom could have done something. I could have…I could have stopped this from happening. Once upon a time we had a bright future with dreams and plans. And then a greater force than any of us could have predicted thwarted it all.

Derrick's funeral was four days after his death. His body arrived to the palace in an ornate coffin with the Illéan flag resting on top. Parrah made my robotic body move so she could dress me and do my hair, choosing to leave me without makeup. To cover up my face though she gave me a black veil to lower over my face. Mom came in and hugged me. She had barely spoken to me in the last few days. She either didn't know what to say or she did and she was too scared of breaking me further. She pinned a gaudy pin on my dress, gently placing one of my red curls back in place over my shoulder.

"Now you look like my daughter," she whispered. This wasn't her first rodeo dealing with the death of people close to her and putting on a brave face. I don't remember much about Uncle August but I know that his death rocked everyone's world and that Mom and Dad still had to be strong through his funeral.

I wondered what she meant by me looking like her daughter but didn't ask. In just a few minutes I would have to walk into a room full of people who pretended to be overly distraught over the death of a person they barely knew. They didn't even know he was married. What a joke. Funerals were just a big façade for people to have an excuse to feel sorry for themselves. I had to prepare myself for the dozens of strangers I would be meeting but would want to cry all over me because they thought we could bond over this loss. I was actually past crying at that point and quite annoyed with anyone who asked me how I was feeling or told me how sorry they were for me.

Per tradition, my family was in the front row. Derrick's mother was on the other side of the aisle from us, a handkerchief clutched in her hand. At some point Mom got up and took a seat behind her so that she had someone to lean on. Dad tried to comfort me but I shrugged off all of his attempts. It was nothing against him; I just couldn't stand to be pitied anymore.

In truth, I didn't listen to a word spoken at that service. My family and Derrick's mother laughed at things that various speakers said about Derrick; old classmates and comrades. The pastor said something that sounded muffled in my ears and Dad nudged me gently. "He asked if you want to say something," he whispered, aware of the fact that I hadn't been listening.

Derrick's mother was looking at me expectantly and I shook my head. "I can't do this," I finally said, standing up from my seat and running for the side door of the Great Room. There was a small commotion behind me as I left but I didn't care. I just kept running.

It was mostly senseless running so I was surprised when I ended up in the gardens at the very bench where we had met the night of his induction party. The roses on the trellis were long dead, even the best gardeners at the palace unable to fight against time. I tried to imagine what the pain would feel like if I didn't feel guilty as well. After all, at the moment Derrick died I was kissing another man. If the preventability of Derrick's death didn't make me feel sick, that fact certainly did. I hadn't seen Kile since that night and really had no interest in ever seeing him again. It was nonsensical but I needed to blame someone and he was the easiest one to blame. Him and Shalom, who hadn't even bothered to come to the funeral.

Guards would come to find me eventually but I didn't care. It wasn't that I wanted them to find me; I just didn't have the energy in me to stay hidden. It felt like since I had found out Derrick died all of the energy had been sucked out of my body.

The sun beat down on my back and I looked up to see Aunt Georgia approaching me with a wary look on her face. She took a seat next to me on the bench, not saying anything, just pressing her hands between her legs and staring at the fountain in front of us. "I know how it feels, you know. I've been there," she finally said.

"You can't possibly know how I feel," I grumbled.

She shrugged. "Yes and no. While I didn't have the same relationship with August that you had with Derrick, I know how it feels to lose the one person in your life that means more to you than your own life. It does get better though. The pain doesn't necessarily go away but you just adapt and learn to live with it until finally you find someone else to channel all of that missing love into."

"Who'd you have?" I asked, not remembering Aunt Georgia with any other men.

"Shel. Your mom and dad basically set us up a few months after August died. Shel had just lost her parents and the old cook was about to send her to the orphanage when I decided that I couldn't let that little girl go," she recounted.

I shook my head, looking out at the woods near the wall. "I can't imagine ever loving someone like I loved Derrick."

"You won't ever love someone like you love Derrick. I don't love Shel the same way I loved August. If you ask your grandmother, she'll tell you that she doesn't love Arthur the same way she loved Shalom."

"No offense Georgia, but I really am not in the mood for a pep talk, okay? I just want to be alone," I snapped. Being surrounded by people who pretended to know how I felt was suffocating. When Georgia made no move to leave I finally decided to leave myself. Using the servant passages instead of the main hallways, I managed to make it up to my room without running into anyone. Parrah didn't even bat an eye when I crawled under my covers and pulled my duvet up to nose, finally losing all of my composure and crying into my satin pillowcase.

If I used my imagination enough, I could make out the smell of Derrick's musky aftershave on the fabric. He was in this very bed with me, holding me, making love to me not even a week ago. How was it possible that he was gone so abruptly? How was it possible for not only his life to end so suddenly but mine as well? Because a life without Derrick seemed like a pointless life. There were some rulers I knew of that used their pain to become hard kings and queens with little sympathy. I didn't want to be that kind of queen though. In truth, I didn't want to be queen at all anymore. I didn't want to do anything that required leaving my bed.

One thing I didn't expect was for time to pass so quickly. Maybe it was because I didn't change out of those clothes until the next day. Maybe it was because the pangs of hunger I felt deep in my stomach from not eating anything didn't come until a few days later. Maybe it was because I slept for a large portion of the day. Reality came to me in bits and pieces.

Mom came in the night of the funeral I think. She just whispered in my ear, "Don't leave us. Don't shut down Amber. We love you, please don't leave us." She may have laid with me for a while but I didn't ever roll over to my other side to check. It was too late though. I had already made my choice to leave and I wasn't coming back.

Dad came in too. I don't know when but it was dark outside. He must have just stopped working. "We found the men who ordered the airstrike Amber. He's dead. We killed him." Avenging death with more death. As if it was some sort of sick game of who could get the better of the other. I shut my eyes, falling into another fitful bout of nightmares featuring explosions and plane crashes.

Annie came in and tried to get me to play piano with her but didn't understand why I wouldn't answer. Mom and Dad mustn't have known that she was in there because she started crying loudly and Dad came in, quickly ushering her out to give me some space. The door was cracked open though and I could just barely make out him promising to play piano with her despite him not even knowing where Middle C was on a piano.

Eventually Dr. Ashlar came in and I felt an unfamiliar pinch in the back of my hand. Instead of going away though it persisted and I had to open my eyes to look at it. I had an IV in my hand. The pressure from the needle was uncomfortable and I just wanted to scratch at it and rip it out. When I reached for it though a hand stopped me and I looked up into Mom's icy blue eyes. "No, Amber, you need that," she insisted.

But then I realized that the physical pain was a welcome distraction. It gave me something to focus my other pain into. I almost came to relish it and dread the moment the needle would have to be removed. I felt pressure on my upper arm, signaling that he was taking my blood pressure. Just as I was getting used to the IV in my hand and starting to brainstorm more ways that I could find physical pain, he inserted a needle to my inner elbow and drew blood. Why was he drawing blood anyway?

"It seems to be all mental. I recommend that she speaks with one of my colleagues who specializes in psychological disorders, psychosis in particular. He'll be able to give you some insight and then maybe find a way to help her and bring her back," Dr. Ashlar said to someone.

"Thank you Dr. Ashlar," I heard my dad say and could imagine them shaking hands. The door to my room shut softly and I thought I was alone until I heard Dad speak again in a hushed tone. "America, what if she doesn't get better? She'll starve. He said himself that he's only allowed by law to keep the IV in for four days. After that…" His voice trailed off as they both thought of the inconceivable.

"I'm scared to send Georgia back in here," Mom said. Please don't. I don't want to talk to her, I pleaded in my head. "I thought she would help but I'm scared she just made this all worse."

I heard fabric rustling and then muffled sobs. Mom was crying. Great. I buried my face in my pillow then so that they wouldn't be able to hear my own sobs as I cried alongside my mother.

I guess it was the next day when I woke up from a rather brutal nightmare and heard crying nearby. Loud, infantile crying. The type of wailing and screaming that could really only belong to a newborn. I pulled my pillow over my ears, hoping to muffle the sound but nothing could stop it. It went on for what felt like hours.

Finally something in me snapped and I threw myself out of bed. I fell over, only catching myself on the mahogany post of my bed before running forward on unsteady legs. My head pounded from the sudden movement and I was barely aware of the sting in my hand from ripping my IV out but I had to find the source of the sound.

I followed it to Aunt May's guest room, finding her newborn son lying on his back in his crib screaming his head off. I lifted him into my arms and started rocking him around the nursery, shushing him quietly. "It's okay Cooper. Shh, Cooper, I'm here," I said to him, just wanting him to stop crying. Where was Aunt May anyway? He didn't smell and he was clearly just asleep so he must have been hungry, a problem I couldn't help him with. With limited options left, I decided to try singing. It was quiet at first, my voice raspy from lack of use. It probably sounded more like Amy Winehouse than my mother's angelic soprano but notes were still coming out.

I pray you'll be our eyes,

And watch us where we go.

And help us to be wise,

In times where we don't know.

Let this be our prayer,

When we lose our way.

Lead us to a place,

Guide us with your grace.

To a place where we'll be safe.

I pray we'll find your light,

And hold it in our hearts,

When stars go out each night.

Let this be our prayer,

When shadows fill our days.

Lead us to a place,

Guide us with your grace,

Give us faith so we'll be safe.

We ask that life be kind,

And watch us from above.

We hope each soul will find,

Another soul to love.

And let this be our prayer,

Just like every child.

Need to find a place,

Guide us with your grace,

Give us faith so we'll be safe.

Cooper's cries died down into whimpers and he stared up at the ceiling fan above us with wonder, his curiosity making me smile. His little body felt so comfortingly warm pressed against my chest. It almost felt natural to have his head supported in the crook of my elbow. I guess it was just a naturally maternal moment.

When I looked up at the door I saw Aunt May and Mom standing on the threshold, both of them with tears in their eyes. I blushed and looked down at Cooper, stopping my rocking abruptly. "He was crying so I came to check on him," I explained, not knowing what else to say.

Aunt May came to me and took him into her own arms. "Thank you, Amber," she whispered reverently, still looking a little misty eyed.

I smiled timidly and walked out to the hallway quickly, keeping my head bowed so I wouldn't have to look at Mom. I didn't want to go back to bed though and stopped outside my bedroom door.

"It's a scary place to go back to, isn't it?" she asked from behind me. I turned and looked at her, wondering how she could possibly know what it felt like to be so alone and depressed. "I had pretty severe postpartum with Annie. Of course you were too young to remember anything being wrong. After the preeclampsia, I was too scared to even give her a name."

"I don't want to feel this way anymore, Mom," I confessed, taking a few steps toward her.

She nodded slowly, sympathetically. "Come here," she choked out, opening her arms to me. Though I was taller than her, getting hugs from her never ceased to make me feel better. There was just something about a mother's hug that felt so nurturing and loving. Soon I felt another pair of arms envelope and looked up to see the side of Dad's head pressed against Mom's hair.

"We love you, little girl," he whispered to me. "We'll get you through this."

I sniffed and pulled away, looking at both of them in turn. "Thanks, but there is one thing that I want to go and do myself."

Dad frowned in confusion and exchanged a worried glance with Mom. "What is it?"

"I need to clean out our apartment in Whites. I was thinking of calling his mother and she can come help me. But it's something that needs to be done soon and I would prefer to do it alone."

Slowly, Mom nodded in agreement. "When you feel ready, you may go."

Even though I lived primarily in the palace after marrying Derrick, he still moved a lot of his belongings into my apartment in Whites so that we could have a place to stay whenever he visited his mother. Somehow I had accumulated an absurd amount of his stuff. When I first walked through the door I just stood there, looking at everything in front of me. I had quite the task ahead of me and no idea of where to even begin.

Part of me realized that I should have brought someone with me but maybe this was better for me to do alone. Slowly I picked my way through his things, starting first with our dishes and books and other school stuff. After a full day of work I climbed into bed without even changing clothes, falling asleep the second my head hit the pillow.

When I woke up I immediately knew that it was past noon, meaning that I had slept much later than normal. I'd inherited Mom's talent for sleeping in but sleeping until noon was a whole new territory. Despite sleeping for over twelve hours as well as spending the better part of the last two weeks in bed, I still felt exhausted. My body felt overworked, like it was taxing itself. Maybe it was just from being malnourished for so long but the lethargy stuck with me even after I drank a highly caffeinated cup of coffee.

The phone call came in the afternoon from a palace number I didn't recognize. It wasn't Mom or Dad's personal work phone and it wasn't Uncle Aspen's. "Hello?" I answered tentatively, holding my phone to my shoulder so that I could keep packing up my clothes.

"Princess Amber, it's Dr. Ashlar," the good doctor immediately answered.

My blood ran cold. Who was hurt? Who was sick? Who was…no. It was too soon for anything else to go wrong. "Yes?"

"I didn't realize you would be leaving for Whites so soon. I was meaning to meet with you yesterday about something I found in your blood test but when I looked for you, your mother said you had already departed," he said, explaining the phone call.

But then I nearly dropped my phone. Something he had found in my blood test? "What did you find?" I asked slowly. I had cancer. I had an infection. I had some sort of incurable disease that would prevent me from ever being queen.

"I found some traces of human chorionic gonadotropin," he said, no hesitation in his voice whatsoever. I put a hand to my mouth, knowing exactly what he was about to say next. My parents gave me a pretty adequate lesson on the birds and the bees as a kid, reinforced by the four younger siblings they blessed me with. "Princess Amber, you're pregnant. Now, I would really like to have you come here for a physical examination to confirm it because there are sometimes false positives…"

I didn't hear anything else. My phone really did drop from my hand at that, crashing to the floor. I stayed frozen in my bedroom. It explained so much. Why I still felt so emotional despite coming out of my fog. Why it felt like my body was so tired. It was putting all of its energy into creating a new life. I put a hand to my lower stomach, where my baby was. Immediately I removed it, the gesture feeling foreign.

I couldn't be pregnant. I was eighteen, almost nineteen. I couldn't be a mother at nineteen. Sure, Derrick and I weren't careful every time but it's because time was so short. I needed to talk to someone. After Derrick died I knew everything was changing. Now it was all changing in a completely different way. I needed someone who would sort this all out for me without blowing up over the news. That instantly ruled out either of my parents or even my godparents. Win couldn't keep her mouth shut and would instantly blurt it out to Khalil and Annie who would then tell Mom and Dad. So I went to the last possible person I ever thought I would go to.

He answered on the first ring, obviously using his twin telepathy to know that something was wrong if I was calling him for the first time in weeks. "Amber, what is it?"

"Shay," I sobbed into my phone. "How fast can you get to Whites?"

Yikes! What's gonna happen?!