Beside me, Lyre lets out a small gasp and presses a hand to her mouth. I force my eyes to widen and my mouth to drop to feign surprise, but the effort goes wasted. Momma isn’t looking at either of us, just staring down at the ground with her expression as guarded as ever.

“Is Corvus…?” Lyre begins in a small voice, but doesn’t finish the thought. She sounds so frightened that I almost forget myself and chime in that he’s still alive, but I hold my tongue.

“He’s fine,” Momma says. “His enlistment is over. Once this job is finished, we’re heading to Titan to pick him up.”

This time I don’t have to fake the shock. I gape at Momma, the news so unexpected that my mind can’t seem to process it. Even knowing that Corvus was alive, never once did I imagine that he would actually return.

This moment should be happy—part of me is absolutely overjoyed that my older brother will be returning—but resentment rises up in the back of my throat nonetheless.

“He’s… you’re letting him come back?” I ask, once I manage to force air back into my lungs. Momma and Lyre both look at me like I’m a complete idiot.

“Of course I am. He’s our blood,” Momma says.

“That didn’t seem to matter to him when he left,” I say. “He chose to stay on Titan. He picked his home-planet over us.”

“And now he’s coming back,” Momma says with a scowl. “Stop being such a damn brat, Scorpia. You should be grateful.” She waves a hand before I can retort. “Family meeting over. We’ll talk more after we get this job done.”

She turns her back and walks away, heading toward the lock-pad that opens the surface ramp. Lyre glances at me. I glower at her silently, waiting for her to make some snippy comment or, worse, voice her agreement with Momma. But after a moment, she lowers her eyes, murmurs something about checking on the engine, and rushes up the stairs with her head down.

I thought I was ready for this, but I’m not. The news that Corvus will be returning hits even harder than the knowledge he survived his enlistment. If he wasn’t coming back, maybe I could have finally let him go. Maybe I could have finished grieving the brother I thought I knew. But now… now it’s like the scar has been ripped open again. My chest feels tight and my thoughts muddled, bouncing back and forth between joy and anger and fear. Somehow, through the chaos of my emotions, a cold and logical concern bobs up.