“What’s funny?” she asked.

“You picked the Ready Racks.” He laughed softly. “Of course you did. The one place Lir would never have chosen for himself.”

Farther into town, they’d found the building that had clearly housed Lir and his officers. It was spacious and comfortable, with easy access to the mess hall and a pool of vehicles that could quickly transport them to the wharf.

“I like to be close to my ships,” she explained, leading him into the barracks and up the stairs to the third floor, where Pisces had left a single door ajar for them. This seemed to amuse him even more, though Caledonia couldn’t say why.

“You made a good choice.” His smile turned self-conscious, fluttering slightly before it disappeared.

“I thought you were dead, too.” Caledonia was suddenly desperate to reach him, to win that smile back. “I didn’t know you’d survived. If I had . . . Donnally, I would have come for you so much sooner. Do you know that? I used to dream that you’d survived.” She paused, tears blooming as she recalled begging her mom to let her take Pisces ashore instead of Donnally. The shame of that moment was always present when she’d dreamed of her brother. “And you did. You survived and I survived.”

He turned to face her, and suddenly his hands were in hers, squeezing tight. So tight Caledonia thought her fingers might break.

“I didn’t survive, Caledonia. I evolved.”

“You did what you had to.” Caledonia clutched at his hands. “What matters now is what you do next.”

Blinking furiously, Donnally nodded and, after a second, pulled his hands away. “And what comes next?”

The loss of his touch left her too winded to speak. She swallowed hard. “You make a choice: stay or go.”

“You’re giving me a choice?” Suspicion clouded his eyes. “Because I’m your brother?”

“No.” Caledonia steadied herself before continuing. “Because everyone should have one. Because that’s the battle I’m fighting. And because keeping you here by force makes me the same as him. You’ve come through your sweats, your mind is your own, and you should be allowed to choose what you do next.”

Uncertainty and confusion warred on Donnally’s face. He backed into his new room, reaching for the door to steady himself, watching her the whole time.

“And if I choose to go?” he asked warily.

“I let you go. I’ll even give you a boat.”

He continued to watch her as though from a distance, as though she were a mirage he could not—should not—trust.

“When do you need my decision?” he asked.

“I can give you until the morning after next,” she answered. “But you should know, if you leave, then this will be the last time we meet as siblings.” A weight sat in Caledonia’s stomach as she spoke. “If you choose him . . . I’ll let you.”