“Do you really believe that?” He sounds a little muffled, and I picture his lips pressed against her hair as he holds her tighter. I think about the way Catcher held me last night after I ran from the headquarters, how nice it was to sink into him and believe that his strength and promises could keep me safe.

I shake my head, hating how vulnerable the memory makes me feel.

“I don’t know,” my sister says, almost a whisper. “It’s just … What’s the point of having fought this long if it all comes down to this? To being trapped here waiting for the horde to find some way across the river? What if this is all there is?”

There’s a little more rustling and then Elias’s voice is clearer, as if he’s pulled away, as if he’s looking at my sister’s face. I imagine him resting a thumb against the perfectly smooth skin of her cheek. “Sometimes life isn’t about the end,” he finally says. “It’s not always about tomorrow and the day after that—what we achieve over the years and how we leave the world. Sometimes it’s about today.”

I hear my sister start to interrupt him but he pushes on. “Any of us could die tomorrow regardless of the horde. We could get sick or be injured or anything else. That’s the risk we take waking up each morning and stepping outside.”

Another pause. Another soft rustle and his voice drops. I close my eyes, recognizing the tone. Hearing the smooth huskiness of his words. “Life can be about you and me and right now. If you want to build something together, we still can. And we can worry about tomorrow when it comes.”

I wait to hear what my sister will say in response, but there’s only silence. And then the soft sigh of a kiss that causes me to jerk my head back and slip quietly out of bed. I tiptoe down the shadows of the hallway, stopping just shy of the main room and peering at them around the corner.

For a moment I stand there staring at the edges of them that blur together. Inside wells a want so fierce that it threatens to consume me. But it’s not because she’s in his arms—it’s because she can be so peaceful. As if she’s not worried she’ll wake up one day and he’ll be gone.

I realize that’s how it always would have been with Elias and me if he’d come home alone. I’d always be waiting for him to leave me again, just as we left my sister in the Forest that day.

In the pale reflection of the morning sun, I watch the small rise and fall of Elias’s chest pressed against my sister’s shoulder. Watch the light trace over her smooth face.