My throat is too tight for words, so I reach up and place my hand over his, nodding my acceptance—and my forgiveness.

“We’ll figure this out, Lyss,” he tells me, before giving me a gentle push out the door. “I promise.”

And then he strides off quickly in the opposite direction, leaving me to blink back fresh tears as I stumble down the hallway.

What I would give for someone to wrap their arms around me right now and tell me that everything is going to be okay. What I would give to have my mum here, my brother here. Even Kael or Cami.

Even Ward.

Perhaps especially Ward.

I’ve got you, Chip.

It’s impossible to keep a tear from escaping as I remember the way he drew me up into his arms, how he held me close, how he protected me and kept me from harm. It was so easy for me to hate how he betrayed me … but I never managed to truly hate him. And right now, I would do anything to have him here, to have him holding me tight, to have him lending me his strength and telling me that I can make it through this.

I keep my thoughts trained on him as I numbly collect a fresh set of clothes from my room and walk on deadened legs toward the springs. I pass only a few people, all of whom do a double take when they see my messy state. Some quietly ask if I’m all right, but others scurry away as if fearing I’m contagious. It’s enough for me to avoid looking in the mirror when I reach the changing room and swap my blood-splattered outfit for my swimsuit, after which I dive straight into the springs and plummet down, down, down, as if the farther I descend, the further I am from my troubles.

I need to speak with Kael. I need to tell him everything— about the serum, about the security guard, about how I’m certain everything links back to Vanik. Once he knows, he’ll understand how important it is that we focus our efforts on finding him—on finding them.

Together. We’ll do it together. His Destroyer ability and my Creator ability—or what’s left of it. The two of us can stop Vanik, can stop the security guard. And then we can fill in the missing blanks, seeking answers to the questions that remain.

Try not to think about what we just saw.

I’m failing at following Smith’s advice, so I try harder, allowing the warm water to chase away the relentless chill I’ve felt since being lost in my memories. The longer I stay submerged, the more my tension begins to ease, the more my mind begins to calm.