“I can’t ever go back to that house,” he says, and I startle a little. I thought he’d fallen asleep. I glance at the clock again; it’s been two hours since he came to my door.

“What happened?”

“I got out.”

I go back to stroking his hair, just relieved that he’s talking. “What does that mean?”

He draws in a deep breath, holding it for a full beat before letting it out. “I told my father that I was done. He knew the reports were fake already. We got in a fight, and he said some stuff, and—it’s fine.” His breath hitches again as his words trail off.

I nuzzle in closer, kissing any part of him I can reach. “It’s okay, Ridley. You’re okay.” When I stop, he looks down at me, frowning.

“He said I was a . . .” He’s looking at me so intensely, it scares me. “Am I a black hole?”

“No,” I say, sitting up. “I hate your father. I hate him. You are not a black hole.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose with his thumbs and shuts his eyes. “But I am. I am. Look at what I’ve done to you.”

“You haven’t done anything to me.”

“They’re going to send me back to Washington, I bet. Back to that house, and it’ll just be me and all those windows and a fucking housekeeper and nothing.” He squeezes my arm tight. “I thought I could do the right thing for once, but it didn’t matter anyway. I’ll—”

“My parents will help us; we’ll figure it out.”

“No,” he says, scrambling backward until he slams into my headboard. “Peak, if they find out who I am now, I’ll have nothing. You were right; we can never tell them. I was stupid to think we could.” He jumps up and starts pacing. I’ve never seen him this frantic. “What if my dad tells them now to screw with me? I can’t—there’s no—”

“It’s going to be okay,” I say in as calm a voice as I can muster.

“You don’t understand. I can’t go back. I’ll—” And then, all at once, he goes completely still, and our eyes meet. “You could leave with me.”

“What?”

“Leave with me, Peak. It’s the only other option.”

“Only other option than what?” I ask, the hairs on my arms standing up as I realize what he’s talking about. I know exactly what he’s doing: he’s checking for emergency exits and coming up short.

“I won’t go back to my mom’s.” He shakes his head. “And I can’t stay here. Peak, if your parents—no, when your parents figure it out, it’s all over for us anyway. Come with me.”