My finger brushes the back of her hand. Just barely, before my fingers curl into a fist. I don’t say anything.
Jake swallows. “Because it might not work.”
“Then we haven’t lost anything—,”
“She might be trapped in there,” Oscar says quietly. “Inside her own head. And if we can’t bringKennyback, but we keep her alive through the bond… is that any sort of existence for her?That’swhat we need to consider.”
The horror of that thought threatens to undo me all over again. Max inhales sharply.
That’s not an existence that I would want. And I don’t think it’s what Kenny would want, either.
“That’s a chance we have to take,” Jake says roughly. “We have no other option, and we all know it. She’s still here. There’s still a chance.”
An infinitely small chance. A single thread of possibility.
Oscar leans forward. His fingers are gentle as he brushes them over her forehead. Her cheek, stroking the sallow skin. “This could be… years. The rest of your lives.”
Notourlives.
He’s already made his choice, I realize in that moment. He’s just waiting for the rest of us to catch up.
I take a breath. It feels like the first breath I’ve taken in twenty-two days.
“There is no life for me without her,” I rasp.
And there never will be. Where she goes, I’ll follow. That much I know. Whatever comes.
My heart belonged to Kennedy Traylor the moment I met her. And fate knew it before I did, throwing a mating bond at me when I was too blind to see what she needed from me.
I failed her once.
A lifetime to make it right doesn’t seem like long enough.
“Yes,” Jake says roughly. “Whatever it takes.”
Max leans forward. There’s more hope in his face than any of ours, and I find myself clinging to it, to the hint of optimism in his expression. “We can do this.”
Oscar’s fingers slip from Kenny’s face. “Then it’s agreed. I’ll speak to Abrams.”
My gaze sweeps over her again.
We’re not giving up on you, Kennedy Traylor.
And we’re going to prove it.
Then - Max
Tuggingattheneckof my shirt, I grimace at my own reflection.
Way to go overboard.
But I don’t change. Instead, I duck out of my bedroom and down the hall. “Mom?”
I reach my parent’s doorway. “Kenny’s going to be here soon. You’re still good for dinner, yeah?”
I blink. Taking in the bed. The familiar, worn khaki travel backpacks, pushed open and filled with clothes. My mom turns, giving me an absent-minded smile before she glances down, picking up a leaflet. “Hey, hon. We got wind of a hike in the North Cascades. Looks like a good one. It’ll be good prep for us anyway, what with the expedition coming up, so we’re gonna head out. You’re good here, right?”
“Course he is.” My dad shifts past. He barely looks at me, and I dodge the hand that aims to ruffle my hair, as if I’m still a kid. “It’s a house, Mon. Not like we’re leaving him in the middle of the forest.”
