“Hush, hush. I’m sorry too. I should have listened to you. I didn’t see things the same way, but I do now. I…” Serina’s grip tightened. “So much of what’s happened is because of you.”

Something inside of Nomi broke. Her sister said it, inexplicably, like this was a good thing, like whatever had happened because of Nomi was good. But Nomi had watched the Superior die. She’d felt the Heir’s blood on her hands. She’d sent Renzo into hiding with a death sentence likely waiting for him. There was no good in this. In her.

“Oh, Serina. If you knew—” Nomi opened her mouth to tell Serina all that had happened, every shameful thing she’d done.

“Shh,” Serina quieted her. “It doesn’t matter. You’re here now. You’re safe. We both are.”

At that, reality started to break through the haze. Nomi loosened her hold on Serina. Her sister’s braid was untidy, her face bruised and swollen. It was such a departure from the perfectly polished, serene version of Serina—the only version she’d ever seen—that Nomi wondered how she’d even recognized her sister.

“How are we safe, Serina?” Nomi asked, staring at her sister’s wounds. Wounds. Serina’s clothes were torn and stained with blood. Where was her cell? And the guards? The guard who had met the boat…

She started to turn in his direction, but the look on Serina’s face stopped her, with its mixture of weariness and pride.

“We are safe,” Serina said. “For now, anyway. The women of Mount Ruin rebelled. We’re not prisoners anymore. We’re free.”

Nomi’s thoughts stuttered to a halt. She stared again at the purple bruises on Serina’s face. “You’re free? You look as if you’ve been beaten.”

“I was. But I fought back,” Serina said. “I am a rebel now, just like you.”

With those radical words ringing in her ears, Nomi noted the new, commanding way Serina held herself, and she remembered the strength of Serina’s embrace. “Not—not just like me,” she said shakily.

Serina grinned.

Nomi smiled back, but the expression faded quickly. Serina didn’t know why she was here. She didn’t know what Nomi had done. She didn’t know about Malachi and why Nomi’s dress was covered in his blood.

“Serina, I—”

“This is Val,” Serina said, gesturing to the guard. He wore an oddly joyful smile that Nomi couldn’t account for. “He helped us.… He’s… well, not much of a guard, it turns out.” Serina shared a knowing smirk with the young man.

Nomi gave him a little, awkward wave. She’d been terrified of him only moments ago. Every instinct within her still saw him as a threat.

“It’s a shame we had no warning about the boat,” Val said, his hand dropping from his firearm. “It was only two sailors.”