I can’t bring myself to leave his side or wander the rest of the ship. I’m too overwhelmed already without trying to absorb the fact that I’m here again under the worst possible circumstances. The ship looks just the same as I remember it. I’ve imagined returning to Fortuna so frequently over the last three years, but now that I’m here, it doesn’t feel anything like home.

Only once, exhaustion drove me to try going to my own bedroom, but I found it filled with storage containers. No one bothered to clean it out for my return. The moment I realized the only other option was to sleep in either Pol’s or Momma’s room, I retreated back here.

I know my siblings need me right now. I know they’re expecting me to take charge. But how am I supposed to lead them when I’m drowning in guilt? Again and again my mind returns to my team, to Pol, to Momma. I’ve replayed my last moments with her a hundred times. She told me she was proud of me; she chose to go alone to test the weapon. Did she know what that choice meant? Does it matter?

“Good morning,” Scorpia says, pulling my attention back to her before I can sink any deeper into my thoughts. Her eyes are bloodshot and her hair greasy, rings around her eyes suggesting she hasn’t been sleeping much better than I have, but at least she doesn’t look drunk yet. Just hungover.

I clear my throat, shifting in my chair, but can’t come up with anything to say.

“I, uh, wanted to let you know that I’m calling a family meeting,” she says.

Which is what I should’ve done. Would’ve done, if I hadn’t been wallowing in my emotions. I need to pull myself together.

“About?” The question comes out harsher than I intended, though my anger is directed at myself. But Scorpia, to my surprise, breaks into a small smile.

“I’ve got a plan,” she says, and races upstairs before I can ask more. I heave a sigh and push myself to my feet, cracking my sore back before heading up to the kitchen.

Everyone is already waiting when I arrive. Lyre is perched on a chair with her knees pulled up to her chest, chewing a thumbnail. Drom has her chin propped up with one hand and her shoulders slumped. Scorpia is standing at the head of the table, right behind Momma’s seat, with a mug of coffee in her hands. She shifts from foot to foot, full of either nerves or excitement or both. The moment I take a seat at the opposite end of the table, she bursts out:

“Okay, so this is a little crazy, but I think it’s all we got.”

Our younger siblings glance from her to me. After a moment’s hesitance, I nod.