The Soulmate Curse

Courage

After leaving Finn's room, Dr. Scott and Zhen ran into her dad, her sister and Finn's family.

"Can we go in and see her now?" asked Akemi. She'd taken quite a liking to Finn. Zhen couldn't blame her. Sorcha was clutching Akemi's hand, looking up at Zhen expectantly, who didn't know what to say.

"Let's give her a few minutes," said Dr. Scott. "I just informed her about her leg."

Finn's mum sobbed. Zhen's dad wrapped his arms around her. Zhen felt a little pang of guilt at the sight. She directed her autonomous chair back to her room and found two men in uniform waiting for her. She wheeled herself to the bed and gingerly got herself on it, the bandages covering her feet and hands making it a bit of a challenge.

"Hello, Miss Roberts," said one of the men. "We're here to ask you a few questions about the last few weeks. Questions regarding the unauthorised access of a lunar module, a break-in at a highly restricted lunar facility and your heliplane crash."

"All that stuff isn't going anywhere, and neither am I," said Zhen. "What about coming back for me in a few weeks when I can actually walk down to the station with my lawyer?"

They left after that. Zhen collapsed back onto her bed. She couldn't help thinking about that look on Finn's face when Dr. Scott told her about her leg. That look haunted her. Would haunt her forever. Over the next few days, Zhen sank deeper into an emotional tailspin, shutting everyone out.

They released her after a couple of days, although she still had to use her wheelchair for a few more days before her feet were fully healed. The nurses probably had a party to celebrate. She hadn't been the loveliest person to be around those last few days, always sour and agitated. Not in the headspace to have anyone around her, she rejected her dad's offer to go back home with him and Akemi, choosing to go back to the apartment instead.

"You've broken every piece of glassware available for use in the apartment," Pearl said to Zhen, a few days later. "May I order replacements?"

"Whatever," Zhen mumbled from the sofa.

She was exhausted, having been unable to sleep for days. Her eyes slipped shut. The bottle of liquor in her hand fell to the carpet. The soft, rhythmic whirring of the cleaning robot lulled her into sleep. As usual, the dream started out peaceful. Her and Finn walking to the boulder. Finn asking to go first, Zhen refusing her. Finn falling and being crashed by the boulder. In the dream, her guts always got splattered, the boulder fully crashing her. Before she dies, she always says something.

"You should have let me go first," dream Finn says with her dying breath. "This is your fault."

Zhen was jolted awake by insistent knocks on the apartment door. Her face was wet with tears that she furiously swiped at before standing up. She stumbled to the door, both from drunkenness and the tenderness of the healing wounds on her feet.

"Jesse?" said Zhen, working to compose herself. "What are you doing here?"

"Wow," said Jesse, stepping past her and into the apartment. It was immaculately clean, although the recycle bin full of crushed glassware, liquor bottles and shredded fast-food containers explained Zhen's current state. "You smell... ripe."

"Why are you here?" Zhen asked, more than a little irritated.

"Finn's been asking for you."

"Isn't this what you want? To have her all to yourself?"

"This isn't about what I want," Jesse replied, taking a seat on the armchair in the living room. "It's about what she needs. And she needs you."

"I'll ask you one more time," Zhen said, getting even more agitated. "What are you doing here?"

"Finn asked me to check on you. You've been ignoring everyone's calls. She needed to know that you're okay."

"Well, you can go back and tell her I'm fine. Peachy. Just dandy."

"You're not fine, Zhen."

"What does it matter to you?"

"It doesn't," said Jesse, searching for something in a bag. "Not to me. But it matters to Finn."

"If I asked you to leave, would you?"

"No."

"Thought so," said Zhen with a sigh. "What will it take to get you out of here."

"I'm not leaving. Not until you let me help you."

Zhen scoffed. "Help me? Assuming, just for a second, that I needed help, why would I let you be the one to help me? What do you even have to offer?"

Jesse took out a small a package from a bag next to the armchair and placed it on the coffee table.

"Drugs? Really?"

"Psychedelics," Jesse replied.

Zhen's eyes went wide. "You're a Shaman?"

"I'm a licenced and registered psychedelics therapist," Jesse replied, organising the substances on the table into little mounds. "I take care of a townful of prostitutes and people whose trauma, sense of self-worth and mental health is in constant flux. It's a useful skill to have."

"I wouldn't have pegged you as a Shaman," said Zhen, taking a sit on the sofa.

"No one ever does," said Jesse, cracking a classic, movie star grin.

Zhen took a deep breath. She'd been slowly dying in a prison of pain and guilt. "So, how exactly does this work?"