I recoil, hurt, and push myself away from the bed shakily. “I only came here to tell you—”

“I heard you,” he snaps, voice cracking. After a pause, he adds, “I don’t want your apology. Because I don’t blame you; I blame myself. I let my heart get soft, and there’s no place for that in Infinity.”

I stand, looking at the person I thought was a friend and realizing I’ve severed something I don’t know how to put back together.

“Just go,” he says gruffly.

I move for the door, shoulders shaking beneath the weight of my emotions.

“And, Nami?” he calls after me.

I turn, hopeful. “Yeah?”

“Make those Rezzies pay.”

I nod silently, too afraid to say anything else, and retreat to my room.

“What happens to humans in Death?”

Ophelia faces away from me, shoulders straight and head held high, like she’s gazing out of a window. Gray silk spills into the shadows, and delicate lace curls around her mostly exposed back. “You know I won’t answer that.” Over her shoulder, she adds, “But someday soon you’ll see for yourself.”

“I wish I could make you change your mind.”

“Your mistake is ever thinking you could.”

“It’s not a mistake to believe people can change,” I say.

She turns, facing my voice. “Am I a person now?”

“Isn’t that what you want?”

She folds her hands together, unblinking. “I am… more. I will always be more.”

No, I think, and hate how much it hurts. How much it feels like a goodbye. Soon you will be nothing.

I’m on the rooftop of the Colony, shifting my feet in time to imaginary music, when I hear Gil’s voice.

“You really don’t like to quit at anything, do you?” A few yards away, he wears a thin gray sweater and black pants, his hair a mess of tousled brown locks. There’s a wisp of amusement in his arched brow.

My hands drop, turning into anxious fists. “I don’t want to ruin our plans by not being able to dance. Because if Prince Caelan asks…” I pull my bottom lip in and look away. “Annika wants me to visit him before the festival. To keep up appearances, since I’ve missed the last two.”

Gil’s expression is unchanged. “Are you nervous?”

“About dancing, the mission, or having to see him again?” I ask, shoulders sinking.

His hazel eyes watch me carefully.

I release a heavy, desperate sigh. “I’m terrified. About all of it. This might be our only chance, and I don’t want to screw anything up.”

He walks toward me, making my heart leap with each approaching footstep. When he’s in front of me, face inches away, he puts his hand against my back.

“What are you doing?” I ask breathily.