CHAPTER 2

Evening meshed into morning without sleep. Past, present, future. As morning waned, the ship continued, not noticing her. No footsteps outside her door. River turned the needle over in her hand, watching as the pale, green liquid in the syringe lolled and resettled. She shouldn’t have been working air into the meds, but she had no intention of taking them anyway. Four years, it had taken for Simon to find just the right mix to keep her lucid, allow her to eat, be a normal girl. Only when she woke up, she was no longer a girl, but a woman.

Through the years, it became harder and harder to find a vein willing to be pricked. The needle tracks up both arms made her feel like a drug addict and she didn’t like that. The meds were harsh, but necessary. She would die young, but not before she lost a few limbs from long-term use of the brutal chemicals.

A tear fell down her cheek as she pressed the blunt end of the syringe to her lips, just to remind herself that she had sensation. Her hands trembled from withdrawal. She hadn’t taken her meds since Cappy died. Mal knew she was taking Cappy’s death hard, but he didn’t know she had stopped her meds. No one did. They didn’t care. Didn’t look in on her. Did they even remember she was here?

In a dream-like trance, River floated through the halls of Serenity to her favorite listening spot – the catwalk underneath the galley. If she stood on the rails and tilted her head just so, she could hear them whispering. Hear what was said and what wasn’t.

Her paisley dress hanging over her food-starved body, River light-footed through the cargo bay, up the stairs, to the catwalk. With practiced grace, her bare feet stepped up to the cold rail… but they were harshly rejected. River stumbled backwards, shaken from her trance, her toe scratched and bleeding. She looked for her attacker and saw the chicken wire tacked to the railing. Mal and Inara had installed it to keep Emma from falling through.

Rubbing her nose with the back of her hand, River shuffled her memor