I reach for the bottle, unscrew the cap, and let the scent hit me—sharp herbs, resin, a hint of bitter root.
Then I set it down.
Not tonight.
I need to hurt clean.
“Why did you do it?” I ask the stars. “You knew what that vote meant. Youhadto know.”
But the stars don’t answer.
They blink back at me in silence.
Same silence she left in her wake.
I can still feel her hand in mine. Warm. Steady. Like maybe she was ready to choose something real.
She kissed me like I was the only still thing in a world spinning too fast.
I can’t get that kiss out of my head.
I exhale through clenched teeth and stand.
The terrace groans beneath my boots, but the bench holds steady.
“Forget her,” I say aloud.
It sounds like a lie.
I look down at the bottle one last time.
Then leave it on the bench.
Some ghosts don’t need summoning.
They already know where to find you.
CHAPTER 15
KRISTI
The security lights in the archive chamber are dimmed to maintenance settings—just bright enough to illuminate the hard edges of things. Angles, shadows, steel. It’s quiet except for the low hum of the cooling system and the ticking of my own pulse against my ribs. I’m alone, past curfew, and I’m about to do something that could either save lives or end mine.
My fingers tremble over the terminal keys, not from fear—but from rage.
I never intended to use the secondary access code. It was just a precaution—something my father insisted I keep, tucked away behind a veneer of protocol compliance and harmless bureaucratic life. He told me once, long before he died,“True power isn’t in votes or speeches. It’s in who gets to read the truth and who gets to rewrite it.”
I believed him.
And I ran from that truth for years.
But tonight? I’m done running.
I enter the code slowly. Deliberately.
Override: CLY-017A.
A moment’s hesitation.
