The church is beautiful at night. The Grace rustles gently, all their eyes half closed as if trying to catch the smallest snippet of rest; night wind blows in through the destroyed front doors; the barest streams of moonlight shine through the stained glass windows.

I can’t stay long. There’s no telling what will happen tomorrow, considering what Nick and I said to each other. At the very least, I need a few hours of sleep to tackle the inevitable shit show.

“Help me up,” I plead.

Theo pulls me so that as soon as I’m on my feet, I’m against his chest. He doesn’t waste a second in wrapping his arms around my waist and pressing his face to my shoulder.

“I almost feel bad the Grace had to watch,” he says. “Almost.” I laugh into his neck, right where I come up to on him. “Call it payback for making me puke my guts out.”

Theo has no idea what it’s like to puke your guts out. Not like I do.

“It’s late,” I murmur against him. “I should head out.”

Theo snorts. “C’mon, you’re gonna leave after that?”

I nudge him, almost knocking the two of us off-balance, but it does make him let me go. “You want me to stay and cuddle? Look, as much as I’d love it, I have to get back before somebody notices I’m gone.”

“Do they have nightly check-ins? Like a hospital?”

“Well, no, but—”

He squeezes my arms. “I miss you.”

I don’t like the way he’s holding me. I remember him wrenching my wrist so hard I screamed for him to let go, he was hurting me, he was going to break something; his spit dripping down my cheek and drying on the neck of my dress.

“I miss you too,” I say, “but I can’t look suspicious. They don’t take risks.” And I’m making the ALC sound worse than they are, just because I want him to let me go. He needs to let me go. “They’ll kill me if they find me sneaking out.”

Theo’s grasp tightens once, just enough that it sucks the air out of my chest, and then releases. He takes a half step back, but it’s not far enough.

“Benji,” he whispers.

“I’m sorry.” I’m the one apologizing. Why is it always me? “It’s late, I’m tired, and—”

“Please stay.”

He sounds so, so small. The way he did in the balcony when he first found me. The way he did on the chapel floor, at his father’s feet, bleeding out.

He says, “Please.”

I say, “Okay. Okay. Can I just—is there a decent place to go to the bathroom around here?”

“I can show you.”

“You are not walking me out to take a piss. Just tell me.”