Her mom is outside on the porch, standing with her arms crossed. Her face is all harsh lines. It’s obvious she’s angry, and she has plenty of reasons—it’s about three in the morning, and Anora’s coming home in a boy’s Jeep.

“I can stick around. Help you explain where you’ve been.” I come to a stop in her driveway, but she’s already on her way out of the passenger seat.

“No, that’s okay.” She sounds defeated and tired. “See you.”

She closes the door and heads toward the porch. I roll down my window.

“Hey, Ms. Silby,” I say with a wave.

“Shy,” she says with a nod. Her arms tighten across her chest, and I’m pretty sure she doesn’t like me as much as she did a week ago.

“Sorry for bringing Anora home late. We fell asleep watching movies.”

Anora’s mom raises a brow. “I’ll be sure to talk to your mother. Good night, Shy.”

“Night,” I say, rolling up the window. As I leave, I spot the red-eyed gazes of Anora’s hellhounds in the shadows around her house.

I head back to the Compound to see Jacobi. I expect to see Malee, Jacobi’s mom, when I enter the infirmary. Instead, Natalie is sitting at his side, holding his hand.

“Where’s Malee?” I ask.

“She stepped out for coffee,” Natalie says. “I haven’t been here long.”

I watch their laced hands for a long moment. It reminds me of our childhood pre-training days when Natalie had a crush on Jacobi. It was one of the reasons she followed us around so much. Then I think about how obsessed Jacobi’s always been with the newest technology, how he would spend hours telling me about new game enhancements he researched when all I wanted to do was play the damn thing. Standing here in this dark room with beeping machines and a silent Jacobi, I regret being so impatient with him, because just as I can’t imagine living a life without Lily’s laugh and smile, I can’t imagine living without Jacobi’s technobabble.

I would miss it.

Don’t you dare die on me.

“Malee says he woke up briefly. The medics say he has a severe concussion. He will have a long road to recovery.”

I don’t know what that means. Will Jacobi be different when he wakes fully? How will this affect his tech skills? His fighting skills? His progress toward graduation?

After a long moment, Natalie says what I’m thinking. “What if he doesn’t recover?”

Her voice sounds hollow, and the only thing I can think to say is, “He will.”

I say it like an oath, a promise that can’t be broken.