My hands claw the back of his shirt. I sob into his shoulder. Every tendon in his back is tight. I reach around his shoulders, pulling my face into his neck, squeezing the space between us so it’s nonexistent. I can’t get close enough.

He must feel it too, because his arms tighten around me. One hand slides up my neck, weaves into my wet hair.

My body is weak, emotionally exhausted. I cry into his neck for longer than I should until my legs grow tired of standing.

Ryan pulls me back. “Are you hurt?” He looks me up and down, takes in the T-shirt and pajamas that were sent to our room.

I shake my head, step back. It’s hard to wrap my head around it. Part of me is reluctant to believe he’s alive and touching me. Like my mind has officially snapped and this is all a cruel, sadistic hallucination. “I saw you . . .” I picture the Swarm engulfing him. “I watched you die.” It’s all I can think and say.

I cross my arms against my chest, trying to understand, trying to remember how it happened.

Ryan’s gray eyes look glossy. Shadows float beneath them, in the hollows of his cheeks. He tilts his head. “I thought it was going to be you.” His jaw ripples. “All week, I thought you were the next victim. So I reached out to the names you gave me, everyone I could think of who might be forced into it, until I found enough of us to fix the whole thing.”

Behind Ryan, my mom takes a seat on the sofa. She sees me notice her and looks away at the flat-screen still playing Emi’s live interview.

“We planned it so once your picture was sent, we’d get to you before the Initiators. I had enough people to surround you and keep you concealed. To make it look like you were being attacked.”

I reach out. My fingers graze his shirt where the blood has dried. “You’re bleeding.”

He flattens my hand against his chest. “It’s fake.”

“The gunshot?”

“Blanks.” Ryan smiles just a little. “We needed a way to make everyone think you were dead and scatter.” The crease between his brow deepens, making him look more vulnerable than I’ve ever seen him before.

I slip my hand away.

“I had a paramedic ready to take you to Northwestern and a doctor who would proclaim you were in critical condition until we figured out what to do next.”

“But it wasn’t me.”

“When I saw my picture . . .” Ryan shrugs his left shoulder. “I tried to get as far away from you as I could. After the Initiators’ first few hits, the plan took over. Everyone did for me what I’d asked them to do for you.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

He steps closer again, tucks my hair behind my ear.

“I should’ve.”