In a year, Hlee would leave Little Nova for college. She couldn’t wait to embrace the adventure, to discover who she would become away from this tiny town. People like Emilia didn’t care about anything outside of themselves, and even if they did, Hlee didn’t want anything to do with it. She wasn’t a sidekick in their story. It wasn’t her job to take on the burden of their character development.

She had her own story to tell. To live, and wherever that took her . . . she hoped Argus would be a part of it.

The following day, Hlee helped her mom prepare Niam Tais’s dinner before setting out, backpack stuffed with warm Tupperware. The door to Niam Tais’s house was always unlocked except at night, so she let herself in. She could hear the rhythmic sounds of chanting from the altar room, so she unloaded her backpack as quietly as she could.

When she peeked into the altar room, to her surprise Argus sat behind Niam Tais on a low stool. Beside him was a table set with a bowl of uncooked rice, incense tucked into the grains, and a simple meal offering to the spirits.

She sucked in her breath at the sight of him, gray and dull, with hollows forming beneath his cheekbones. At the sound, his eyes flew open. His gaze found hers immediately.

She offered him a weak smile before fleeing outside. The chickens gathered around her as she sat on the stone mushroom cap and tossed feed into the dirt. Her chest ached, every breath thick with fear. It wasn’t long before Argus joined her, looking awkward as he tucked his long fingers into his back pockets.

“Niam Tais is trying to heal you,” she said.

Argus hesitated, and frustration pinched at her temples. Despite spending nearly every day together for the last two months, she barely knew anything about his life outside of Little Nova. She knew only that Niam Tais and Argus’s father had been friends, and that Argus would leave when his father came for him.

“Yeah,” he said quietly. He didn’t offer anything else.

The frustration bloomed into anger. “I’m not stupid, Argus. I can see that you’re sick. You need to be in a hospital.”

“Niam Tais is very skilled,” he said in that way he had of never really directly answering anything. It was infuriating.

“I know she is,” she snapped. “But she’s not a licensed doctor. You need medical care.”

He sighed, his mouth stretching into a smile that made her heart stutter. Sinking onto the stool beside the wooden sculpture, he ran his fingers along the rough lines they’d left with their clumsy carving. “Once my dad comes for me, I’ll be fine.”

“And when will that be?”

“I don’t know. Soon, hopefully.”