When she turns around, I’m surprised to see tears trekking clean paths through the dirt and grease smeared on her face. She wipes at them with one hand, looking frustrated, and takes a deep breath. She stands up straighter and collects herself before she speaks.

“I’m just so tired,” she says. “So tired of trying to be the logical one. Tired of trying to do the smart thing for the sake of everyone.”

“No one blames you for voting for what you believe in.”

“But I don’t believe in it. Not really.” She winces as she makes the admission, looking away. “You think I want to bomb Nibiru? You think the guilt wouldn’t have killed me if we did? But since no one else was going to be the voice of reason, it had to be me.” She wipes her eyes again. “Just like it had to be me to push Scorpia to take charge, even though I knew it would hurt you. And look where that almost led us.” She pauses, but it’s clear she wants to say more, so I wait. “Just like I let everyone believe you willingly went to Titan, even though I knew it was a lie.”

That catches me completely off guard. Familiar anger flares inside me—but it sputters out just as quickly, drowned by a wave of hurt. If this was anyone else, I would be furious. Perhaps murderously so. But this is Lyre, my baby sister who always seemed so small compared to all the rest.

“At least, I suspected as much,” she says softly. “And once I began to suspect, it was easy to figure out an explanation that made more sense than the one Momma told us.”

As much as I struggle for words, only one makes it out of my mouth:

“Why?”

“What good would it have done to tell everyone the truth?” Fresh tears spill over. She gives up the effort to wipe them off. “It’s not like knowing would have given us a way to get you back. And it would have torn the family apart, even more than the lie already did.”

I can see how that might make sense to her. But…“What about Scorpia?” Scorpia was nearly broken beyond repair by this. She spent years thinking that her worst fear had come true, and the person she trusted the most had abandoned her. She fell so hard into her drinking habit that I’m not sure she’s going to ever claw her way back out again.

“It gave her purpose, at least.” She sniffles, wiping her nose with the back of one hand. “To take your place. She was still a mess, but at least she was trying. Knowing the truth would have made her give up completely. Either that, or she would’ve done something stupid enough to get herself kicked off the ship and left somewhere.”