As soon as he was gone, she wanted him back. Not because he comforted her but because he disgusted her. Imagine, him talking about himself at a time like this. Worse, trying to make himself out like he wasn’t all that bad because he decided he’d had enough torture for one lifetime before his identity got leaked and he’d have been forced out, anyway. He made her fucking furious, and anger was vastly preferable to the kraken of grief that was just below the surface, bubbling, roiling, ready to pull her into the depths.

She didn’t really believe it was true yet. He couldn’t be dead. This incredible mind, this incredible person who had overcome so much—fleeing his home country, addiction, the death of his brother—and still accomplished so much. Scholar, writer, polyglot. This person who had seen the best in her, had shown her kindness when no one else had, and seen potential in her where no one else did. Had been her rock, her protection. Gone, all gone. Brain matter splattered on the desert. Rotting in a morgue somewhere.

This can’t be real. This can’t be happening.

The door cracked open, and Cora’s entire body turned to steel, ready for a fight. She relaxed only slightly when she saw that it was not Sol but Luciana.

Luciana stood next to the door for a long time, looking at Cora like she felt like this whole mess had been her fault. Eventually, she spoke, voice barely above a whisper. “Cora, I’m so sorry.”

Cora just glared at her. What did she expect her to say? It’s fine? The one person in my life who supported me, who saw any potential in me, who encouraged me, who didn’t abandon me when things got difficult, is dead, but don’t worry about it?

Luciana inched closer to the bed. “How are you holding up?”

Cora coughed a little. How in God’s fuck was she supposed to answer that? “I don’t know.” Her throat felt coated in rusted iron.

Luciana nodded, seeming to consider the wisdom of sitting on the side of the bed as Sol had, but refrained. Cora was all barbs, and Luciana knew it.

“I need to ask you something,” said Luciana. “Did Kaveh ever say anything about me?”

Cora blinked, a little incredulous. First Sol, now Luciana? What was it about death that everybody had to make it about them? “Like what?”

Luciana made a face like the mere act of talking pained her. “Let me rephrase that—did he ever tell you that he and I had met before? A while ago, back when you were in high school?”

“No, he didn’t say anything.”

Luciana eyed her, searching for something. “Really?”

“Really.”

“He didn’t mention anything about meeting me in 2002?”

“No, nothing.”