Annika shakes her head. “We have no proof of that. And during all the time we’ve spent gathering information about this world, the Legion Guards have never said otherwise. Even the commander told Ettore—”

“But she cried.” My voice starts to shake. “When I asked her if she could hear me, there was a tear and—”

“You spoke to her as a human?” The warmth in Annika’s eyes evaporates.

I flinch. “She was trying to tell me something.”

Ahmet stands, hand partially raised like he wants to speak. After a moment, he clenches his fist and sighs.

I look at Shura next, who has all but forgotten she’s still listening in on the council room. Theo has the earpiece removed altogether, and he’s staring at me like there’s a fire building within him.

“Maybe if I could help her—” I start, but Annika doesn’t let me finish.

“You put all of us in danger over a maybe,” she says, voice as hard as iron.

My face contorts. “No, I—”

“I thought you were ready, that you understood what was at stake. But you blew your cover to the first person who shed a tear—showed you emotion.” Annika shakes her head, braids shifting. “If you don’t harden your heart, you’re not going to survive this world.”

“But if the girl is still aware, maybe Theo’s brother is aware too. Maybe there’s a chance we could save them,” I argue desperately.

Theo watches me but doesn’t say a word in my favor.

Judging by the disapproval on everyone’s faces, I’m not sure any of them are on my side.

Annika holds up a hand. “Gil told me you weren’t ready for a mission. That you didn’t fully understand the dangers of Infinity and what one mistake could cost all of us.” She sighs. “I think he was right.”

My heart crumbles to ash. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that for now I think it’s better if you return to the training room.”

I feel the sting of her words like paper cuts all over my skin.

I never wanted to be their spy. I never wanted any of this. But now they’re discarding me just for trying to do the right thing. Like I’m an empty bottle or a used-up battery—something that can be tossed out once they stop being useful.

Maybe I was never supposed to have my own opinion. And now I’m being punished for it.

Her expression softens. “It’s not permanent, Nami. But we can’t take any chances. Not when we’ve made so much progress.”

I’m unable to hide my hurt, and my feelings flood through me, overwhelming and powerful. Feelings I didn’t even know I had.