I barely make it to the toilet before I vomit up my pastry and beer, both far too much for a stomach used to army rations. I flush my mouth out with water and move to a bed that feels too soft to sleep in. When I lay back on it, it feels as though I’m going to sink and sink until I disappear.

Staring up at the ceiling in the silence, I finally let myself wonder what it will be like to see my family again. Merely imagining that moment unleashes a surge of emotions I’ve been trying to repress, and the questions that come along with it.

Will they cry when they see me again? Will I cry? How will Momma react if I do? Will she feel sorry for me, or will she think I’m weak? Does she miss me? Do the rest of them? I was trying to keep this simple, to remove myself from my emotions and focus on the practicality of escaping this war. Now all my fears and my hopes rise to the forefront of my mind, so closely intertwined that I can’t focus on one or the other.

I’ve spent these last few years trying to think of my family as little as possible. All the memories I’ve been subduing well up now, filling my mind with a million small things I’ve missed about them. The gangly, fearless twins, quiet Lyre with the secret little smiles she shared only with me, and Scorpia’s capacity for bold laughter in the face of despair. I hope she was able to hold the rest of them together, to lighten things up for our younger siblings like she always did for me. Stars, I miss her, despite all her flaws.

And Momma… Momma, whose stern looks made me feel like scum on the bottom of her shoe, whose rare praise meant more than anything else in the world. I miss her, too, though it hurts to admit.

In the early days, I used to think of them all the time. When I curled up, freezing and alone, in the barracks, I would tell myself stories about them to get to sleep. I wondered what kind of people the twins and Lyre would grow up to be in my absence, and imagined Scorpia shirking off her many bad habits and stepping up to take care of the family. They were foolish thoughts, and likely hurt me more than they helped, but they were all I had for a while. The one thing that kept me going was the hope that I would see them again.

I’ve done such terrible things for a chance to see them again.