The book of the universe had only ever showed me hints of the real story.

How to stop it? There had to be a page. I flipped and flipped and flipped.

Death. Blood. More death. All I could do was clutch Tair tighter.

He wrapped his arms around my shoulders as the guards pounded. We had seconds, maybe, before they got it open and I could already see them storming in, and—

I shook my head to clear the images and felt Tair holding me. Still anchoring me. Blinking, I let myself slip fully into the present.

Tair gazed down at me, his brown eyes clouded with worry and his square jaw clenched tight. His frames had slid down his nose. I pushed them up and let my hands rest on his shoulders. A pair of timeghosts slipped through the clarity.

I shift onto my toes, bringing our faces close. Tair bends down to meet me, his lips pressing—

But what would it change? We’d only be more attached when we were about to be ripped apart. Instead of making that dream a reality, I pressed my forehead into Tair’s shirt and inhaled his clean laundry smell. It’s too late.

I won’t believe that. His body tensed, obviously rejecting he idea, but he’d see the truth soon enough. I relaxed into him, letting his presence blot out the things I didn’t want to see.

It was too late.

The door was already opening.

Guards poured in, their weapons out and pointing. I could see them through Tair’s eyes: the deadly efficiency in their motions as they circled us, and what the different weapon barrels meant as they crowded close, but I didn’t dig into his senses. This time, I really didn’t want to know.

The researchers ducked under their desks. Even they sensed what was coming.

“Separate and put your hands out,” one of the guards said.

I tried to let go, but my hands wouldn’t listen and Tair kept his arms tight around me. “She needs medical.”

“This area is restricted,” the guard said. “Release the subject and step away.”

A frigid shiver crawled down my spine. The subject. Was that the path we were on? Me back to a lab specimen, and Tair… What would happen to him?

“This is a mistake,” Tair said, his voice clear and even. No one would guess how hard his heart was hammering in his chest. “I’m Altair Orpheus. My parents—”

“If you wanted to play connections, you should’ve stayed above ground.”

That voice.

Darren.

He sounded all sickly satisfied, and Tair and I had heard that tone enough already; it never ended well. Usually with a few bullets in Tair’s chest.

I wouldn’t watch it.

I couldn’t watch it again.