“The disappearance of the old woman who sold potions in Moscow. The old man in Tunisia who went missing after his stall caught fire. The witch whose body was found hanging from a tree in her backyard,” Ligaya says. “And these are only the ones we know of. Who knows how many conjury makers they’ve killed so far?”

“They’re ruthless,” Talei whispers.

We slip into silence again.

“I’d like to talk to you all,” Sevda says when five minutes have passed. We know she is unhappy, has been unhappy ever since we decided to throw in our lot behind Taraana, but she didn’t say anything, so we kept our silence. Perhaps she is ready to speak, so we give her all our attention.

Sevda takes a deep breath and looks at Paheli. Her smile is wobbly. “I have spent a lot of time agonizing about this and I…” She stops and hesitates, biting her lips, collecting her thoughts. “I’m ready to leave.” She stops again. “I am pretty certain I am. I can’t—I mean, I no longer want to live like this.”

“What do you mean by ‘this’?” Kamboja says in a dangerously low voice.

Sevda clenches her hands into fists and squares her shoulders. “Returning to the real world will be scary, and I’m honestly not sure I’m ready to, but”—she bites her lips again—“it’s much scarier to live as a Wild One right now. Running from one place to another without knowing if we’re going to get caught. Having to hide. Feeling powerless. This kind of life is way scarier. I can’t do it. I’m sorry. You’ve all given me so much love and support, and I know I should suck it up and stick around, but I can’t. I’m so sorry.” Sevda’s eyes are full of tears. “Do you hate me?”

“Why would we hate you, Sevda?” Paheli says before anyone else can speak. “Being here, being wild, is not a permanent way of living.” She looks at the rest of us, and we all avoid her gaze. “The Wild Ones is sort of like a bus. We get you from one point of your life to another.” She pauses. “At least it’s supposed to be.”

We glance at Taraana; he looks stricken by guilt when this isn’t his fault.

“I said in Agra that it’s never wrong to put yourself first. You have the right to your fears, to your desires, to your dislikes. It is never wrong to want to be safe.” Paheli smiles at Sevda.

Sevda’s light brown eyes overflow with tears. “I feel like I’m betraying you all.”

“Just a little,” Etsuko says, and we glare at her. “I’m being honest!”

“I’m sorry.” Sevda bows her head.

“Don’t be sorry,” Kamboja says. “Be brave.”