A Fractured Light (Beautiful Dark)

Samuelson yelled. “Say something!”
    “I’m okay!” I called, my voice shaky as I came to a rest. But when the shock of the impact wore off, a stabbing pain ricocheted through my left ankle.
    I was close enough to the bottom so that I could ski gingerly down the rest of the way. My team crowded around me, suddenly—finally—showing support.
    “Skye, this doesn’t look good,” Coach said, kneeling and examining my ankle.
    “It’ll be better by tomorrow,” I insisted. “I promise. I just twisted it, that’s all. It’ll be fine after I ice it. Really.” I needed to race tomorrow—so much depended on it.
    “Kiddo, I don’t know if promising is going to do you any good at this point. You may just have to sit this one out.”
    I’d come this close. I was almost there. No , I thought as the bus drove us back to school. I couldn’t let that happen.
    The race was too important to miss. I’d sprained my ankle skiing before—and it had healed quickly, miraculously, even. But this time, I couldn’t go to Devin, or anyone else, for help.
    Maybe this was supposed to happen. Maybe I needed to figure it out on my own.

Chapter 23
    I drove home from practice slowly. There was no way I could sit out the race tomorrow. Not only would it mean forfeiting the title of captain to Ellie—something I was determined not to let happen—but the race was an important milestone. It was all supposed to come together for me tomorrow on the slopes, and the thought of being forced out by injury brought angry tears to my eyes. I wiped them away with the back of one hand, gripping the steering wheel in the other.
    When I pulled into the driveway, I cut the engine and began to hobble toward the house. But halfway there, I stopped. I couldn’t let anyone see how badly I’d hurt my ankle. Aunt Jo would be concerned and fuss around me. Asher would be worried—but for different reasons.
    If he saw me limping tonight, he would inevitably want to know how my ankle had suddenly healed come tomorrow. And then I was going to have to explain just how strong my powers of the light really were. I knew he wanted me to be as powerful as possible, but still, if he was looking for reasons not to trust me, that was as clear a sign
as any.
    Because that’s what I was planning to do. Harness my ability to heal. I was determined to do it, and yet the idea of doing something so powerful terrified me. I’d only ever tried and failed. What if I messed up and ruined my ankle forever?
    I pushed open the front door with my shoulder and tried to keep the weight off my ankle. Low voices carried from the kitchen, and I immediately got a strange premonition of the scene I was about to walk in on. When I threw my bag down in the hall, the voices stopped talking abruptly. “I’m home!” I called.
    “In the kitchen!” Aunt Jo shouted.
    The scene did not disappoint. She and Asher sat across the kitchen table from each other, in uncomfortable silence. Asher’s foot was tapping wildly against the floor, and he was squinting at her with a weird, uneasy look on his face. She was staring into a mug of coffee.
    “You two having quality bonding time?” I asked, raising an eyebrow at the awkwardness.
    Asher jumped up when he saw me come in.
    “Oh, no, please sit,” I said, smiling obliviously on purpose. “Don’t let me interrupt.” Careful not to limp or wince, I walked stiffly to the table and fell into a chair between them. “So,” I said, “what are we talking about?”
    “Aunt Jo was about to show me baby pictures of you.”
    “Wait,” I said, sitting bolt upright. “What? Is this what happens when you guys hang out without me?”
    “He’s kidding, Skye,” Aunt Jo said, cracking a careful smile. “We were talking about your race tomorrow. We’ll both be there.”
    I gulped. “Yay,” I said halfheartedly.
    “How are you feeling about it?” Asher asked. The look in his eyes implied he wasn’t just talking about my time to beat.
    “Good,” I said, giving him a meaningful look. “I’m ready.”
    “Great!” Aunt Jo said, much too enthusiastically.
    “I think,” I added.
    “You’re strong, Skye.” Asher’s voice was low and serious. “You’re ready. You know you can do this.”
    I looked at him gratefully. It felt so good to know he believed in me that much. I reached out and grasped his hand. He grinned.
    Aunt Jo cleared her throat. “You must be famished, hon,” she said. “I’ll heat up some leftovers.”
    I