Jember scoffed and turned back around to unlace his boot. “You live in some rich man’s house for a few weeks and suddenly you’re soft.”

“I’m not soft,” I countered.

“If everyone cried at every failure, the entire planet would be in a constant state of mourning.” He yanked on his boot, giving up with a frustrated grunt. “Get this off me, girl.”

I sighed, but somehow it wasn’t out of annoyance. I scooted off the bed to kneel in front of him. “So, you found a new mentee,” I said, tugging off his boot easily.

“I was assigned a new mentee.”

“How’s it going?”

He shrugged, pushing his dreads behind his shoulders. “Eager to learn. But he can’t seem to understand how to sense Manifestation strokes, which is literally the easiest part of the job.”

“He just needs time. It doesn’t come easily to everyone.”

“I’ll find someone better and replace him.”

“No one’s ever good enough for you,” I mumbled.

“You were. Now look at you. A mewling quitter.”

I shoved his boot to the side. “You’re the one who told me to quit in the first place.”

“Didn’t tell you to cry about it.”

I pushed myself to my feet to stand in front of him, my eyes burning from the threat of tears. “Can you just help me find a job? And I’ll be out of your hair forever.”

Jember’s gaze shifted, searching my face. “What happened?”

“I failed.” It was more of a sob than words. I hugged the amulet to my chest, my vision blurring as I looked at the floor. “He was counting on me, and I couldn’t save him. And now he’s alone and frightened—a-and—” I swallowed another sob. “I’m a coward. I can’t go back there. How can I face him after I let him down so badly?”

“What did you do, girl, fall in love with him?”

And that was it. My body shook, my hands pressed against my face. It burned to breathe. I let loose with uncontrollable sobs, more violent than I’d ever felt before. Maybe my body was just playing catch-up from the rest of my life when I wasn’t allowed to cry.

“I’m going to count to five,” I heard Jember say, barely audible over my sobbing. “And then I’m going to stop your crying for you. One.”

I tried to take deep breaths, but my lungs wouldn’t cooperate.

“Two.”

Smothering was his usual warning when I was about to cry, anyway …

He pushed himself up from the bed and snatched up his pillow. “Three.”

Then again, he’d never made it to five before.

“Okay, okay,” I gasped, forcing myself to breathe, wiping my face.

“Four.”

I fixed my posture and swiped my sleeve across my tear-welled eyes, alternatively taking deep breaths and gasping.