“I’ll look into it. I don’t think I can do anything, but I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t at least try.”

Nita nodded, but her mind was already past her plan to use Patchaya and working on something much better.

At the top of the escalator, people bustled through the station, shoes clicking on the tiled floors as they passed through a series of metal turnstiles. A bored attendant sat in a booth, and the faint hum of guitar music from the busker in one corner echoed just under the hubbub.

On the other side of the turnstiles, Kovit waited for them.

He was staring at his phone nervously, and he kept running a hand through his hair, mussing it. They’d agreed that if Nita deemed contact safe, she’d bring his sister here, and if she didn’t, then Nita would come alone.

Patchaya paused at the turnstile. “I really should get back.”

Nita raised her eyebrows. “Don’t you want to see Kovit?”

Patchaya froze, mouth open, and in that instant, Kovit saw them. He swallowed, and then came over, his footsteps slow and heavy.

Patchaya turned and met his eyes. Her gaze flicked over his face, examining all the changes, placing the face of the young man in front of her over that of the boy from her past.

He gave her a frightened, tentative smile, voice hoarse. “Pat?”

Her face crumpled, and she threw herself through the turnstile and embraced him. “Kovit.”

Kovit froze for a second before wrapping his arms around her and burying his face in her shoulder. Both of their chests heaved softly, and Nita couldn’t tell if they were laughing or sobbing.

Nita stepped back, suddenly feeling like an intruder. She wondered what it would be like to have a sibling who loved her that much. Who was willing to risk everything just to see her, who wept when they were reunited. She tried to imagine anyone in her life caring about her that much, and she couldn’t. Her mother wasn’t the emotional type. Her father . . . her father was gone. Murdered by a vampire while Nita was trapped in Death Market. A vampire Nita still needed to find and take her vengeance on.

No, there was no one who would care about Nita that way. She’d never really wanted a sibling before, but seeing the grief and love in Kovit’s and Patchaya’s faces, her heart ached like she’d missed out on something precious.

Patchaya pulled away and brushed a strand of Kovit’s hair from his face. “Look at you, all grown up.”

“Speak for yourself.” Kovit’s smile was a bit crooked. “Look at you, all old. You even have a gray hair.”

She swatted his shoulder. “I’m only twenty-five, you brat.”

Kovit laughed, light and free.

Patchaya said something in Thai, her smile still wide.