I don’t respond. I step back to my spot next to the piano, where I can see Ty in full, and drop my head. I press my hands into the wall and ignore the sharp pain of the Being sting, focusing on the texture of the paint beneath my fingers. I used to use this trick to ground myself. To remind myself of what was real. None of this is real, I know, but it still feels like it is. I could still convince myself that it is. If I just tried a little harder.

The pain in my injured palm intensifies.

Earlier, I’d let Mirage show me all this so that I could figure out a way to help him. A way to get him the power he needs to heal me. But that was before I understood the magnitude of what it would take to free up his energy.

Everyone—the whole of Cisco Island, nearly three thousand people—would have to wake up. They would have to face the monsters, face their greatest fears, and step through the mirrors. And before all that, they would have to know to step through the mirrors. In the last thirteen months, exactly two people have done any of that, and one of those people only did it because I pushed him.

I’ve found Elliott Ackermann, Mirage says into the silence, once again reading the direction of my thoughts. He is awake as well.

I choke on a laugh. Elliott. I’d nearly forgotten that Mirage was running a search for him. And now that he’s found him, what am I supposed to tell him? That we can get to Earth—to the real world—where there’s no fog, no Beings, no Valkyrie Bridge and no mother to make him walk across it? I don’t want to tell him. I don’t want him to leave me.

I can’t afford for him to leave me.

Because I think … I think I might still need his help.

An idea blooms in the back of my mind. It’s terrible. Risky. But it makes the desperation fade, just a little. Just enough.

I lick my lips. “You said you’d heal me if you could,” I say to Mirage. “If you had enough energy.”

Of course.

“What if everyone woke up? Would that free enough of your power to fix me?”

I—don’t know. I’ve never had to cure anything remotely like a Being sting before. But if I was no longer having to sustain any mental constructs or keep anyone’s physical bodies healthy while they sleep … I’m not sure. I think I might have enough energy to at least try to make you well again.

“Good enough,” I reply. I step away from the wall. I don’t need to ground myself anymore.