She shied away, trembling. No one touched her, except Asha when she wanted Tanvi to hurry up. How could anyone stand this? It was so intense, too intense, sensation crashing through her a hundred times harder than even the colors and smells had. She could handle Venkat yelling at her for trying to sell her dreams, but not this electric feel of his fingertips lingering on her skin.

Tanvi hissed like Asha would. It didn’t help, and that only made her more frantic. She didn’t want to think about how Venkat was only inches from her, or why his familiar face had become strange, with that thoughtful consideration. Or about those expressive eyes that terrified her.

“Get away from me,” she ordered as harshly as she could.

Venkat stared at her as if he felt like she did: like the universe had flipped inside out. Then his face shuttered, the warmth smothered. “Not until you tell me why you were trying to sell your dreams to Karan.”

Your dreams. Did he suspect she’d been dreaming, too?

She had to distract him. “Where’s Jai?” she demanded. “What’d you do with him?”

Venkat swallowed hard enough that she could see his Adam’s apple bobbing. “He’s with Nayan. Why?”

The dejection at finding Jai’s room empty struck her again, and she lashed out. “Maybe you should be more worried about that instead of partying with the nagas.”

Venkat was supposed to protect the dream runners. It was his job to keep her from dreaming. From her bracelet having to take a back seat to things that shouldn’t matter. “It’s your fault he’s gone,” she stressed, “and don’t you forget it.”

Then, tying up her pouch, she stalked past him and into the tunnel.

Dawn had broken by the time Tanvi got to Philadelphia.

Being exposed to the sun of Prithvi like this—with no shadows to jump into—felt sinful. She should be in her room right now, surrendered to oblivion.

But it would be worth it if she could find the answer she needed.

Tanvi tromped toward the intersection where she’d met the girl with the headband, passing stores and restaurants and people. So many people, so many odors and noises and textures. Even the air tasted of exhaust and stale frying oil. It was hard to breathe, and more than once she had to stop so her weary legs wouldn’t give out.

A wall covered in street art stung Tanvi’s eyes until she had to wipe away tears. An older, brown-skinned woman in a crown stared out from a swirl of blue, yellow, and orange, and the rainbow bubble letters under her spelled out ♥ ONE PHILLY, ONE LUV ♥.

Squinting, Tanvi raced around the corner. Why were there so many colors? Had the entire world made a deal to splash its paint over this one city?