It was going to be so hard to relax into forgetting when Venkat finally silenced her heart again.

Tanvi could feel the next batch of memories gnawing their way loose like worms, sending pain sparking through her. She had to head them off.

Unfortunately, Venkat wasn’t due for another hour or so, and she’d already done her calisthenics and bathed. Reading his book wouldn’t help; it just made her remember their trip to the lake and the tale of the poor night bride.

And the slow flutter of Venkat’s lashes as he appraised her with the same careful consideration he would a dream for sale.

Suddenly too warm, Tanvi forced the picture from her thoughts. That was not the distraction she needed.

The other runners, she thought hurriedly. What was happening with them? They didn’t even have a feather phone to help pass the time.

She glanced at the door, then at the now-empty jar Venkat had dropped off yesterday. I’m sorry I haven’t had a chance to tinker with the crystals yet, he’d said, but I hope this helps a little. It’s from the Night Market.

Last night, Tanvi had unscrewed the lid of the jar and let the glimmering contents soar around her bed while she slept, night-lights to keep bad dreams at bay. Even in the morning sun that squeezed through her slit of a window, the cloud of fireflies glowed a gorgeous yellow-green, converting the blank space with its assortment of random objects into a cave of wonders. Venkat had told her they were the hearts of those who’d searched for something they’d never found.

Yesterday, Tanvi had called that sad. Today, it gave her an idea.

The lock Madhu had ordered hadn’t been installed yet. . . .

Tanvi lifted the empty jar, and as if by some silent pact, the fireflies all returned to it. She screwed the lid back on and stepped into the doorway, where she hesitated. Was she really going to do this?

But this might be her only opportunity, and besides, she couldn’t take another second of being detained.

Praying Madhu wouldn’t catch her like she’d caught Bharat, Tanvi carried her shining beacon into the corridor and then to Indu’s room.

Indu lay in her bed, surrounded by a dozen occupied and vacant dreamstones. Her glazed stare was absent, like a doll’s. Going by the empty tray outside her door, she was still eating and drinking, but who knew how long that would last?

Jai had burned out doing his job. This was worse. This felt like a gradual fading, a stripping away, until one day, Indu just wouldn’t be there anymore.

Tanvi bent over her. “Indu, it’s me. Wake up.”

No response. Not even a blink. Indu hadn’t even noticed, not that Tanvi could tell.