I gulp down the nerves welling in my throat and blink. The familiar sights, smells and sounds of my failure taunt me. But the air doesn’t get caught in my throat anymore when I know they’re coming. I focus on my breath, easing it out, and shove the images of bloody armor, chaos outside Yiyo, the crumbling barrier, far, far away.

I push and they fade.

I blink.

Eyelashes.

His face, I can’t seem to shake. I close my eyes hard, pushing them farther, but the face with long eyelashes comes firmer in view and new glimpses of the past slither their way around my throat.

Something sharp digs into my arms. Bright lights bob over me in a room with all-white walls and a metal table in the center, chilly at my back. I’m weighed down and covered in a thin shift. I strain for the sights and sounds of magic but hear only the scrape of metal. Stale air curls in my nose and I blink.

“Where am I?” I ask, trying to sit up, but I’m heavy all over, tethered to a table with straps. Panic claws at me. “Jhamal?” But only my echo answers.

A woman in a lab coat presses me down to the chilly table at my back. “She’s awake. Give her more.”

I gasp and sit up fully.

“You okay?” Jhamal asks.

I blink and the images disappear. “Yes.”

I still can’t remember how I got in here or fully grasp why there’s a person with long eyelashes haunting me like a ghost in my memory. His curly smile, his touch. Blips of the foggy memory have returned over the months, but in bits, a wisp. That’s been my life for however many months. Sleep, eat, practice, and fight off broken pieces of memories.

My stomach hovers in the back of my throat. Up, I have to get up. But my brooding pins me to the ground like a weighted blanket. How is guilt like that? So heavy you can almost actually feel it.

Focus, Rue. But my father’s dying stutter rings in my head. I grab the metal bars I sleep beside and shake them to drown out the sound. Metal rattles down the orb-lit passageway between cells.

“Let me out of here,” I want to scream, but no one ever answers. The bars are cold and heavy and I’m woozy for a second, holding the actual lead in my hands, against my skin. I let go and the light-headedness lifts. The cells around us have all emptied. I shudder to think of where they’ve gone.

“Morning, sunshine.” Jhamal stands, his warmth sweeping away. And just like that I’m cold all over.

I turn to him and he smiles. I smile back. At least I’m not in here alone. At least he’s been by my side. For all of it.