Aria wiped the tears from her face. “That night in Reverie? I was in Ag 6 trying to find out if she was all right. The link with Bliss was down, and I was so worried. When I saw the message from her, I thought she was fine.”

Perry stared at the empty space by her side. Just four steps away. Four steps that looked like a mile. He took them like he was going to launch himself off a cliff. The bed rocked as he sat. What was wrong with him?

He cleared his throat. “They were just rumors, Aria. The Auds just spread things.”

“It could be true.”

“But it could be false, too. Maybe only part of it is destroyed. Like the dome that night? It was crushed where I came in.”

She turned to the painting on the wall, lost in thought. “You’re right. The Pods are built to break down in parts. There are ways of containing damage.”

She pushed her hair behind her ear. “I just want to know. I don’t feel like she’s gone. . . . But what if she is? What if I should be mourning her right now? What if I do and she’s not? I’m so afraid of guessing it wrong. And I hate that I can’t do anything about it.”

He bent over his knees and pulled at the edge of his cast.

“This is what you’ve felt about Talon. Isn’t it?”

He nodded. “Yes,” he said. “Exactly.” He’d been avoiding the fear that he might be doing everything in vain. That Talon was gone. He hadn’t allowed himself to think about that. What if Talon had died because of him? Where was Talon? Perry knew she understood. This Dweller girl knew what it was like to feel the torture of loving someone who was lost. Maybe gone forever.

“Marron says he’ll have the files and the link working by tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” she said.

The word hung in the quiet of the room. Perry drew a slow breath, working up the courage to say what he’d wanted to for days. Everything could change when they fixed the Smarteye. This could be his last chance to tell her.

“Aria . . . everyone feels lost and low. It’s how a person acts that makes them different. These last days you kept going despite those feet. Despite not knowing your way . . . Despite me.”

“I can’t tell if that was a compliment or an apology.”

He peered at her. “Both. I could’ve been kinder to you.”

“You could have at least said a little more.”

He smiled. “I don’t know about that.”

She laughed, and then her eyes turned serious. “I could have been kinder too.”

She scooted herself back against the headboard. Her dark hair fell straight to her shoulders, framing her small chin. Her pink lips turned up in a soft smile.

“I’ll forgive you on two conditions.”