My eyes met Matt’s over Mia’s shoulder. Not a murderer, then. Somehow, Matt had survived. To my horror, tears spilled over my lashes. But I’d been holding in this secret for so long, living with this guilt, knowing that no matter how many people I saved, I’d always carry Matt’s blood on my hands. I swallowed as best I could with Mia’s arm wedged against my throat. “I’m so sorry,” I said. In some ways it was a relief to get it out. My secret was a wall between me and my shipmates. It was a wall instigated by Cage, who’d believed they would turn on me if they learned the truth, but a wall nonetheless, and one I’d helped him build. “Mia,” I pleaded, turning to the personification of fury in front of me. “I didn’t want to kill him. You know I didn’t. I saved your lives on that ship. I would have given anything, anything, to save Matt, too.”

She shook her head and dropped her voice, speaking just for me. For once her tone wasn’t enraged. It was flat and cold and something underlaced it, maybe hurt or betrayal, and that was somehow even worse than rage. “You lied about it, Kenzie. You and Cage both.”

“Yeah.” I forced myself to meet her gaze. “Yeah, we did.” I could have pointed out that they didn’t know me as well back then, that they would have greeted the truth with suspicion and anger. I could have told them how it had torn me apart, carrying this secret. I could have made excuses. But I didn’t. Because when you came down to it, Mia was right: I’d killed Matt, and Cage and I had covered it up.

Or so I’d thought. But here stood Matt, glowering at me, a stun gun trained on his former friends.

Mia must have had the same thought. Slowly, as if it hurt her to do so, she released me. She took a step back, her arms tightly corded bars of steel at her sides. Squaring her shoulders, she faced Matt. “Your ability is to sense life, not heal. So what the hell happened to you?”

Matt seemed disappointed she hadn’t killed me on the spot, but he only shrugged. It might have been a casual gesture if not for the stun gun still pointed in our direction. “I died,” he said bluntly. “Kenzie shot me, and I died. And then . . . I got better.”

“How?” demanded Rune, her voice little more than a tremor.

I watched to see how Matt would respond. He and Rune had been close not so long ago. They’d stolen moments and gazes and maybe even the odd kiss. Now, though, he resolutely avoided her eyes. “Beats the hell out of me. I hoped one of you might know.”

“The mask,” I said dully. “Did you wear that just to mess with me?”