It seems like I’ve only been asleep for a couple of minutes when a gentle but persistent rapping on my door drags me awake. I try to tune it out—consciousness is a hard no after the day I’ve just had—but eventually the knocking gets too annoying and I stumble out of bed. I open the door a crack to find Rose standing there, holding a folded blanket in front of her. “Were you sleeping?” she asks, pushing past me to get inside.

“It’s, like, one in the morning, so yes,” I said, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. “What are you doing?”

“I couldn’t sleep. Also, you never messaged me back after your nap, and I was worried.”

I climb back into bed and find my warm spot, pulling the blankets back up. “Get in,” I offer, patting the space beside me.

She crouches in front of me. I think she’s going to kiss me, but instead she whispers, “Actually, can you get dressed? I want to go for a walk.”

“It’s freaking freezing out there,” I groan. “And my bed is so toasty. Can’t we just cuddle and fall asleep and pretend nothing outside the room exists at all?”

She holds out the blanket in response, looking proud of herself for her foresight. Yeah. Okay. It’s not gonna help much, but I can’t say no to that face, can I?

We steal down the hallway without saying a word. Her bodyguard isn’t with her, I notice. It’s the first time I’ve seen Rose leave the nearby buildings without one of them. There’s a tense moment when she gingerly opens the front door, and it creaks like an animal in agony, but no one comes out of their rooms. I can’t help breaking into silent, nervous laughter while we cross the courtyard. “Why are we doing this?” I ask.

“Because I don’t think we’re going to get a chance to see each other outside our rooms for a long time.”

My heart sinks. I want to ask her for more information, but I also don’t. I can figure out what she means from context, and I just can’t. I can’t handle any more bad news. So, I suck it up, and follow her into the night.

We reach the edge of the woods, and I zip up my parka. With winter only just behind us, it’s not snowing anymore, but it’s damn well close to it.

Rose cups my hands in hers. “Where are your gloves?” she chides.

“I forgot them.”

Wordlessly, she takes the gloves off her own hands and passes them to me.

“I don’t want to go in the woods, Rose,” I say, blowing onto my gloved hands to heat them up. “It’s creepy at night.”

“We lurk around the woods all the time,” she says airily.