Zora’s face swirls in my memory. And Kai. And Shaun. And little Titube with her golden flower. And even… Jhamal. His face rattles through my mind like faint echoes of a gong I’m straining to hear. I’m furious with him, but love tethers us, and I’m not sure that’ll ever go away. I actually think it makes me hate him more.

“I know we dance even after loss to cling to joy. I know we fight as a unit, side by side, because we are only as strong as our weakest. We cover each other, protect each other. We’d prefer to die fighting for what we believe in than live in the shadow of oppression. I know a lot, I guess. But I definitely don’t have all the answers.”

“You don’t have to.” It’s Rojala who speaks this time. “It’s okay to try something and mess up. And learn from it.”

I grin at her parroting. Now that I think on it, I did negotiate to bring on an ally for my people. Hundreds to fight on our side. And I’ve kept them alive. I intercepted an electronic Loyalist transmission, and I know what the Chancellor’s up to, at least somewhat. I went against the status quo when it wasn’t cool to do. I secured a spell to raise the dead, for goodness’ sake. I even spoke to my Ancestors.

I stand up from the table, my wrists catching a glint of sunlight from the window.

Ms. Leola winks. “I get it, baby. Sometimes you gotta remember where you came from, to understand the purpose in where you going.”

She’s so right. I’ve been so busy asking everyone else for answers, so busy looking to someone else to fix this, to lead. So convinced that girls from the hood don’t wear crowns, I didn’t realize I’ve been leading this entire time. Carving a path. Doing something I’ve never seen someone like me do before.

I am a leader, whether I want to be one or not.

My Ancestors’ daughter.

It’s who I am. Who I’ve always been. Who my people are.

And I, Rue from East Row, am enough to fill those shoes.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

BENEATH THE TREES OUTSIDE the Ancestors’ grave site, the Macazi and Ghizoni surround me. Whispers flit like fireflies among the branches as morning sun peeks between the canopy. Thick leaves with beaded dew glitter in the light. Everyone’s watching, waiting. Even Shaun leans on a timber, arms folded. I hope he’s here for the right reasons.

When Jue, Rojala, and I returned, I’d found everyone still lingering over the Ancestors who’d come and gone. I told them to form up, that I had something to say. And I guess because of what’s just happened, everyone wants to hear it. Almost everyone.