Giselle leans into my side, humming something low and unhinged while she picks dried blood from her nails. Alaska walks beside Johnny now, upright and swaying like she just learned what standing felt like, and decided to make it a dance. Her smile’s too wide, and her skin’s streaked with something that was definitely once inside someone. Johnny, is unusually calm, gaze distant, like he’s still tasting the echoes of the night in the back of his throat.

Lux and Indie are a few steps ahead of us, facing the morning sun.

I watch the way he touches her—just a hand resting lightly on the small of her back. But there’s tension in his fingers. A different kind of protectiveness. Not the usual smirk and flourish. Something deeper. He hasn’t let her out of his sight since the collapse.

And I don’t think it’s just habit.

They’re holding something back.

Giselle notices too. She tilts her head. “Why’s Daddy Warbucks brooding harder than usual?”

Johnny squints at them. “Yeah. What gives? That’s not the face of a man ready to plan our next night of chaos. That’s the face of a guy about to monologue about change. And I hate change.”

I narrow my eyes. Indie looks calm. But not relaxed. And Lux—he’s never still. But right now, he’s a fucking statue.

Johnny steps forward, bouncing a little on the balls of his feet.

“Alright, fearless leader,” he calls. “Where we off to next? I’ve got half a script in my head and a craving for stage blood. Oh! Can I lead the next show? I’ll call it ‘Johnny’s Carnival of Carnal Horrors.’ We’ll do a clown sacrifice at dawn.”

Lux doesn’t answer right away.

He glances at Indie and they exchange a look.

And that’s when I know.

It’s not just blood he’s shielding. It’s something bigger.

“We’re taking a step back,” Lux says finally, his voice calm but low. Serious.

Johnny blinks. “A step back from what?”

“From this,” Indie adds, her voice steady. “The shows. The road. The killing. All of it.”

There’s a silence, sharp as a snapped bone.

Johnny laughs but there’s no humor in it. “Oh. Good one. Okay, but seriously. Where’re we headed next?”

“We’re not joking,” Lux says. “We’re done. Or… stepping away.”

Johnny’s expression falls like a curtain. “Wait. You’re what?”

Lux steps forward, raising a hand. “Johnny⁠—”

“No. No, no, no. You can’t just leave. This is who we are. This is what we do. You’re the ringleader. She’s the whip-wielding queen of pain. You two are like—like the skeleton and the spine of this whole fucking freakshow.”

“It’s not about walking away from who we are,” Indie says gently. “It’s about protecting who we’re becoming.”