“Nolan,” Kit said.

He nodded, the first time he had moved since he had glimpsed her. “Come in,” he said. “No one’s supposed to see me.”

She crossed the threshold and glanced around blindly before her eyes went back to him. “You’ve been all right? You’ve been safe here?”

“So far. But I’ve watched the monitors. People are looking for me.”

Kit nodded. “Reporters.”

“And some government authorities. And angry indigo who would like to see me murdered in the street.”

“Melina’s right. You should go away. Hide someplace.”

He shrugged, then smiled, making no direct answer. “How did you find me?” he asked. “How did you find Melina?”

“Saw her on the news. I remembered that you’d mentioned her name. I thought she might know where you were.”

“And why did you want to know that?”

“Because I wanted to tell you—”

He waited while she searched for words. “Tell me what?”

She spread her hands; all-inclusive. “Tell you everything,” she said at last. “Jex is dying, I think.”

“I know. They would not have released him otherwise.”

“And the whole world has changed.”

“I know,” he said again.

“And Chay is not the man I thought—and you are not the man I once thought—and even my grandmother is different than I believed—”

“Would you like to sit down?” he interposed. “I could get you something to drink.”

She shook her head. She had crossed her wrists and drawn her fists up to her collarbone; she was having difficulty with the very concepts she was trying to put into words. “I don’t know how you ever know what to cling to,” she said at last. “How you ever know what to believe in. How you ever know if what you’re doing is the right thing and if who you’re loving is a good person. How do you know that?”

“You make your best guess, and you act on it,” Nolan said. “And if you find out you’re wrong, you try to make amends. I’m not saying it’s easy. I’ve just done it for the first time myself. And almost everyone in the world will tell you I was wrong.”

“I think you’re the bravest person I know,” she said.

“Is that why you came here?” he asked. “To tell me that?”

“No,” she said. “I came to offer you sanctuary.”

He smiled, genuinely amused. “Last time I heard anything about it,” he said, “you didn’t have much of a haven for yourself, let alone anyone else.”

“I’ve become a woman of property,” she said. “My grandmother died.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too. But she left me a legacy—a house in town, and an estate in-country that is so isolated no one can find it without directions. I think you should go stay there. You’d be safe.”