“Because that’s not all the same. Those are all different things—different parts of me and my past.”

He shrugs. “Exactly. That’s what makes you, you. Don’t you think you lose all of that when you become one of the Unconsecrated?”

I start to shake my head but he grabs my chin. “The Unconsecrated aren’t the winners because they died,” he says. “We’re the winners because we get to live. Because we get to survive. Despite the pain of this life, we get to feel.”

He lets me go and walks over to the edge of the roof, where the Sanctuary is laid out below, cushioned in a blanket of white. “I know you still blame me for bringing us here. But don’t you understand that I was only trying to make sure we had a chance to live? I wasn’t betraying you or Catcher. I just …”

His jaw tightens and I walk toward him, stand next to him looking at the Sanctuary and the City beyond the river.

He takes a deep breath. “We’ve struggled so hard—both of us. I couldn’t have it be for nothing. I had to fight for us—even if that meant bringing us here. It was the only thing I knew to do.”

I place my hand over his. His skin feels warm and damp. I glance up and notice his cheeks are flushed.

“Maybe I should be sorry,” he says, lifting one shoulder. “I’m not.…” He shakes his head a little, raises his other hand up to press against his eyes. Clearing his throat, he goes on. “I’m not going to apologize for having more time with Gabry. And you.”

His fingers clutch mine. “We’ll find a way to be safe,” he says. He sounds so sure that I can’t bear to force him to recognize the reality of our situation. It’s easier to let him believe in hope.

A breeze lifts the edges of my scarf, trailing them over my shoulders and flapping them behind me. “If only we could fly,” I whisper.

“I flew once,” Elias says. His eyes have lost focus and his shoulders hitch as he draws in tight little breaths. “In the Forest. I found a plane—it was the middle of winter and all the Unconsecrated were downed and I sat in it for hours. Below were clouds, above blue sky.”

He lets go of my hand and wavers on his feet, then grips the wall to catch his balance. I let him lean into me and realize that he’s scorchingly hot. Sweat rolls down the back of his neck even in the frigid air.

“Elias, you have to rest. You have to let me take over for a while. You can’t keep pushing yourself.” I try to help him sit but he stumbles away from me.