The exhale I’d finally let out. How stupid I’d been to think that was the end when really it was the beginning.

I know I should’ve said something then.

I just didn’t have the words.

And I don’t have the words now.

Cora’s eyes slowly move into slits. I brace myself.

But she doesn’t say anything.

There is only a stony silence.

I try to meet her eyes, but I’m not brave enough. I stare at a pile of fallen leaves. “I didn’t know what he was going to do, Core. I really didn’t.”

Cora takes a few steps back from me. She stumbles over a stray branch, catching her balance at the last moment. “But you knew. You saw him. And you didn’t do anything.”

The sky is getting darker. The sun has almost completely slipped behind the clouds. I hold my breath like I did that day in the hallway.

“And you didn’t tell me. All this time. You didn’t tell me,” Cora continues. “You’ve lied to me and wasted our time. You knew this all along—”

“I didn’t—”

“No,” Cora says. “You didn’t.”

“Please, Cora. You have to understand—”

“I don’t have to do anything!” Cora snaps. Her eyes are ringed with red, but she’s not crying.

I’m not crying either. My whole body is frozen.

“You need to leave,” Cora says quietly. “Right now.”

“Please,” I plead. “I want to help still. I want to make this right.”

Cora balls her hands into fists and taps one against her forehead. “I was so wrong to trust you. Just leave, Quinn. Don’t make this worse than it is.”

“Cora, please,” I beg. “But what about the plan?”

Cora crosses her arms over her chest. “I don’t need your help. And I certainly don’t want your help anymore.” She throws me a hard stare. It’s so piercing that I can feel it deep inside my chest. “Do you know why penguins can’t fly?”

“What?”

“Do you know why penguins can’t fly?” she repeats.

I shake my head. I don’t understand why she’s talking about penguins right now.

“Because there are no land predators in Antarctica. But in the Arctic, birds do fly because there are land predators. Like polar bears, for instance.”

“Uh, okay,” I say, not exactly following.

“It’s critically important to understand your surroundings. I can’t believe I trusted you. What a mistake that was.”

I stare again at the dead leaves on the ground, a medley of burnt red and golden brown, a collection of fallen things. I can’t cry. I won’t let myself.

“Core—”

“Quinn. I want you to leave now.”

“I—”

Cora gives me a withering look. It makes me feel like I’ve drunk one of those Alice in Wonderland shrinking potions. Suddenly, I am two inches tall, trembling and cowering on the ground.

“You don’t get it, do you? I don’t want you to be here. I don’t want to ever even see you again. Do you understand?” Her olive-brown face turns red, and she starts to shout: “GO! Just go. PLEASE GO.”