I just want something impossible to become possible on my last day alive.

Is that too much to ask?

Apparently so.

“How are you?” Scarlett asks. “Why are you outside?”

I tell her about the bombed photo shoot in as few words as possible.

“What are you going to do now?”

“Go home, I guess. I’ll wait for you.”

“No!” Scarlett shouts. She turns apologetically to a woman I glimpse next to her. “You didn’t move to New York to hang around waiting for me. Go safely explore. I’ll be there soon.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

We both know this can’t be promised as we hang up, but it’s something to hold on to. Scarlett will do everything in her power to reach me. She could bribe someone off the next flight out so we can have more time together, or sneak into the cargo bin and get battered by suitcases for five hours. I don’t know, but I do know she will figure it out.

As sure as I am that I’ll see my reflection when I look in the mirror, I’m certain that I will see my sister before I die.

That’s the most important dream that needs to come true.

Orion

8:12 a.m.

Today is the first time I’m positive I will live no matter what, and I never thought it would feel so fucking shitty.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m still not trying to die, but watching Valentino live through his End Day has been rough. It’s hard not to feel like the author of his story is some cruel bastard who won’t give him any wins. There’s so many ways he could’ve died by now—gunshot or beat down with a bat or smashing his head on the curb or that fall back at the apartment or run over in the middle of the street—and he’s surviving for what? To get rejected by his agent, and find out his sister is still stuck back home? I can’t celebrate my life knowing his final hours are not working out for him.

“This End Day can’t get worse, can it?” Valentino asks, staring off into space and fighting back tears. “That’s a stupid question. Of course it can, and of course it will. Death-Cast had no idea what they were talking about when they called Deckers the captains of our own ships. Everything about today shows that I’m not steering my way through this End Day. It’s like my wheel is spinning out of control and I’m about to crash into an iceberg and drown.” Valentino cracks, crying so damn hard. “I should drop dead now.”

That shit breaks my heart.

I try wrapping my arm around his shoulder, and he shrugs me off.