He doesn’t look at me. “If a Resident was somehow trying to get in your head, then it wasn’t something you could’ve prevented.”

“I thought they couldn’t do that. I thought…” My words cut short like a branch being snapped in half. You didn’t think, my thoughts scold. That’s the problem. I touch my wrist. How many times have I reached out to Ophelia? I shouldn’t be surprised someone finally tried to reach back.

After a few minutes of listening to the water pool below, he asks, “Why were you trying so hard to go upstairs?”

“I needed to find her.” I stare at my shaking fingers, and my voice cracks. “What if I was the only hope she had?”

Gil paces near the mouth of the cavern. “You’re the only hope any of us have. The Colony needs you.”

“What happened to not wanting to put your hope in someone like me?” I ask weakly.

He stares at the flowing water. “When you first arrived in Infinity, I didn’t fully understand you. You were afraid to fight. Afraid of hurting the Residents. Afraid to make a choice. But you’ve never been afraid to care.” He takes a calculated breath, releasing it slowly. “Maybe that’s worth taking a chance on.”

My chest flutters, unsure what to make of his sentiment. I didn’t think it was possible for him to believe in anyone, least of all me.

“But from now on, if you ask for my help, we work as a team. Together.” The muscles in his neck are stiff. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think his feelings were hurt. “I look out for you, and you look out for me. Those are the rules.”

“Okay.” It’s the only word I can think of. Maybe it’s the only one that matters right now.

The sunlight spills into the forest, but our shelter is damp and cold. I shiver once, twice, and then Gil is in front of me, letting his black jacket slide off his shoulders. I start to protest, but when he wraps his jacket around me, I can’t help but relax into the warmth.

“You don’t have to do that,” I say.

“Do what?” He sits down next to me.

“The whole ‘give a girl your coat because she’s cold’ thing. We’re dead—it’s okay to let the gender expectations die too.”

“It has nothing to do with gender. You were cold,” he says simply. “If I were shivering and you had a jacket you didn’t need, I’m sure you’d do the same.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” In spite of myself, my mouth twitches into a grin.

He leans back, lips parted slightly like he’s combing through his thoughts. “You told Shura you didn’t think he was a monster. Did you mean it?”

He means Prince Caelan.