Don’t cry… don’t cry. If she did, Gera might make her redo her face and that had been hard enough to endure the first time. “Me, too, baby sis. I mean that you were dead. Where are you? How did you get this number?”

“I don’t know. Some guy with this really weird, creepy voice called earlier and left it as a message. He said that he had a way to contact you, and for me to call this number as soon as I could. And you’ll never believe where I am!”

Zarya had never before heard such excitement in Sorche’s voice. Gods, she sounded so happy.

“I got a full scholarship to Guernelle Academy!”

That news stunned her almost as much as hearing Sorche’s voice. “A scholarship? How?”

Maris had told her Darling was paying for…

Oh wait. It suddenly made complete sense. That must be how Darling was doing it. Like her, Sorche would never have taken money from a man to pay for her school, especially not from an aristo.

Her sister had no idea she had an individual backer.

“It’s a special deal set up by a company called the Dagan Investment Group. I have to major in mechanics, which is what I wanted to do anyway, and so long as I keep my grades up, they’ll keep paying for everything. I even get a monthly stipend for living expenses so that I don’t have to work and can focus all my attention on my classes. Every year I maintain my grades, it’ll go up. And if I graduate with honors, I’ll get… brace yourself… a fifty thousand cred bonus! Is that not stunning?”

In that moment, Zarya had never loved Darling more. What he’d done went beyond kind, and the fact that he’d done it in such a way that it built up Sorche’s confidence and made her strive to do her best was incredible.

“How did you find out about the scholarship?”

“The school called me about it the week before I had to register for classes. They said that the board at DIG had reviewed all the applicants for their incoming class, and that I was the only one out of all the others they thought had real potential. Can you believe it? Me? Me!”

“It’s not that amazing. I always told you, you were the best.”

“Yeah, but someone who isn’t related to me thinks I don’t suck, too. Sorry, that counts more.”

Zarya laughed. Sorche had no more belief in herself than she did. Too many years of them struggling, of Sorche trying her best and then being slapped down by things like getting into a prestigious school and then not having the money to attend it had clubbed them both so many times that it was hard to have any confidence in anything, except the universe’s willingness to bitch-slap them.

“So where are you?” Sorche asked. “Why haven’t you returned any of my calls? Do you know how long it’s been? I really thought you were dead.”