I shove my hand into the pocket of my cloak and curl my fingers around Gran’s healed bone. I couldn’t bear the thought of leaving it behind, and now I cling to it like a lifeline. “We were matched on my other path.” The words fly out of my mouth before I can stop them. It wasn’t what I intended to say—not exactly. My already-flushed skin now feels on fire, and I wish I could melt into the deck and disappear.

Bram’s eyes go wide and then he starts laughing. The sound stings like a slap.

“Why is that funny?”

“It’s just—you and I—that seems … an unlikely pairing.”

My fingers unconsciously circle the love tattoo around my wrist, which is as bright as it was the day it appeared. “Yes, well …” I stammer.

“Well, what?” His voice is still full of humor. “Why are you telling me this?”

Now that I’ve seen his reaction, I’m asking myself the same question. I guess some part of me was hoping his feelings were similar—an unexplained closeness that he can’t account for. A longing to be together that makes no sense. But I’m being ridiculous. My feelings aren’t real. Not in this life.

I stare out at the water, shimmering in the gentle light of the setting sun, while I gather my thoughts. Then I turn back to Bram. “I just wanted you to know that in some version of reality, you cared about me. That you wouldn’t want to see me harmed.”

“I don’t want to see you harmed in this reality,” he says. “We’ve had our issues in the past, but I’m not a monster.”

“I know, but you’ve seen things that could get me in trouble. That could sully my mother’s legacy.” I can still picture the shock in his expression as he watched me do a reading on Gran’s healed bone after my mother had died.

But you aren’t trained, he said when I prepared to prick my own finger. Are you?

I’m trained enough.

My cloak suddenly feels too tight and I tug at the collar. “I just want to make sure you won’t betray me.”

The amusement vanishes from Bram’s face, and something dark flashes across his expression so quickly, I think I might have imagined it.

“Of course I won’t.” His voice is gruff.

I don’t know if I can believe him. Ami advised me to trust my gut. But what if my gut doesn’t know the difference between this reality and any other?

My fingers twine together so tightly that my knuckles turn white. “No one can know about my other path,” I tell him, my voice low and urgent. “No one can know that my mother taught me bone charming.”

He touches my shoulder lightly. “I won’t say anything. You can trust me.”