“No,” Venkat said slowly. “I wouldn’t. If I don’t remember them, it’s like they never lived at all.”

She buried her face in her hands. “I just want my bracelet,” she whimpered.

That settled him. She had to know. “Tanvi, did you ever get your bracelet?”

“Of course not—I never got to sell my last harvest. If I had, I’d have the bits of boon I need.” A beat passed, and she added, full of frantic hope, “Do you want to see my wares? I can get them.”

Something knotted in the pit of Venkat’s stomach. He tried to ask it nicely, but the question felt like spitting knives. “How long have you been a dream runner?”

“Asha brought me here when I was ten, and I’m seventeen now, so seven years?” Tanvi chewed on her bottom lip. “Why?”

“Why would it have taken you seven years to earn one bracelet?”

Her body grew stiff, her shoulders rising around her ears, and the skin around her eyes pulling tight. “What are you talking about?” she whispered.

As sick as he felt, Venkat plowed ahead. “How long does it take you to earn a boon? How many dreams?”

He could see her mentally doing the math. “No,” she said finally. “No. That— No. Just no.”

“How many bracelets should you have by now?” Venkat asked, resigned. He had to be the biggest jerk in all the worlds.

“No,” Tanvi told the air. “You’re wrong.”

But she sucked in a breath.

This was the worst victory Venkat had ever won. His voice came out hoarse and exhausted. “Do me a favor. Go look in your closet. If I’m wrong, I’ll give you all the boons you want.”

His chest hurt. It would be so easy to keep shielding her from this, but he couldn’t. She deserved the truth.

Her eyes trained on the plain white blanket, Tanvi nodded. Then she got up, giving Venkat a wide berth, and approached the closet.

22

Tanvi hesitated outside her closet. Venkat was wrong; all she had to do was prove it.

But her feet wouldn’t move.

She could feel Venkat’s gaze drilling into her spine. How was she supposed to do this with him watching? “Quit looking at me,” she snapped.

Paper rustled behind her, followed by the squeaking of chair legs. “I can wait outside,” Venkat offered.

Tanvi nodded and took in the entrance to the closet. There was nothing to be afraid of.

Stupid, she told herself. You know what’s inside. You saw it just . . .

Now in her line of sight, Venkat edged toward the exit.

At least two days ago? Not possible. Sitting in the closet was her daily ritual. She couldn’t get by without it.