“You ready?” he asks, as if he can hear the whisper of my fears. I set my jaw, hoping it masks the angst trying to drown me. But he stares as if he can see right through me. He reaches for my hand, but I shake my head.

“I’m good, really. I want to find Bati.”

He huffs out a breath, sensing the push. But he only nods and walks a few steps ahead.

We take the first corridor on the right. This part of the Web is different from the dirt tunnels where we escaped. The floors are more paved and along the walls are actual rooms. Where the Web had stone archways, this has makeshift doors, which are panels of wood perched in front of room openings. We traipse down the long hallway around bins and piles of stained armor.

Bri’s at my back, sticking close, arms linked around herself. “Do we even know if Bati…” Her words trail off. She’s right. I don’t know if he survived. But I can’t think that way. I have to hope he is.

The hall opens up to a big room with towering beamed ceilings full of people. Water drips through the tiny fissures, making puddles on the ground. Orbs dot the walls and long tables run the perimeter of the space. The light in here is brighter and a mix of earthy spices and something musty swirl in my nose.

Nostalgia blossoms in my chest at the memory of the first time I sat with my people. How we ate and talked and laughed. How I was scared and knew no one, but all they wanted to do was see East Row win.

Seats scrape the floor as people rise when we enter. But many remain seated… intentionally. The warmth dissolves and my cheeks flash hot. I peer harder at the expressions on the people’s faces. Lines etched in brows, dry, cracked hands, heavy shoulders, a nod to heavier hearts. What am I going to say to them? What could I say to make any of this better? We walk several more steps in silence.

Five… four… three… two… one.

I push out a breath.

Maybe it’s not what I say… maybe it’s what I do?

The Yakanna are steps ahead of me, greeted with hugs and shoulder squeezes. Jhamal is swallowed in embraces. I stand there shuffling on my feet as eyes flick my way. For a moment I wish I was standing next to him, his hand wrapped around mine. But I made this bed, I gotta lie in it alone.

The room is full, but the crowd is a fraction of what I remember. There could be no more than a hundred, maybe two here? Yiyo was home to thousands before. Maybe there’s another big room elsewhere? Maybe some are sleeping still? Maybe—