Iwas in denial. I was wrong. I’m sorry, Jasmine.
His words follow me through the rest of the day, echoing beneath everything else.
After Kane and Amon left, Kacey and I fell back into what had become a flawless routine. We made idle chat, fed the animals in the evening, checked the habitats, completed order forms, sent emails—without uttering a single word of real importance.
And when it was late enough, we flitted to Ezekial’s empty office, and prepared to flit back to her apartment.
Using Sai’s tiny marble of power was easy enough. You hold it, picture where you want to go, and flit. I used one yesterday for the first time, and again this morning. I knew exactly what to imagine. It only took a second. But…
Kacey leaves, and I linger.
Because I know what would happen if I tried to flit. I wouldn’t land in Kacey’s apartment. No.
Because I was too busy picturing dark eyes—eyes that once flashed with hatred but are now dusted with grief, speckled with grey.
I’m too consumed with what I’d learnt of Kane’s past. Imagining it. Feeling it. Becoming so sick with heavy, thick emotion that I have to clutch Ezekial’s desk and collapse into his chair.
There are thin slivers of silver clinging to the air. So tiny, so delicate, they’d be invisible to anyone else. Traces of Ezekial.
He mustn’t have left long ago, and that brings a new rush of emotion.
What happened to him? If Kane says Ezekial deserves my sadnessmorethan he does…
I can’t even begin to imagine.
I stay a little longer, letting the silence curl around me, the darkness hold me, and try to battle the flood of thoughts that won’t stop racing.
When I finally flit to the apartment, all the lights are off and I head straight to bed.
But now it’s 2 AM, and I’m restless.
My body craves sleep, and if I closed my eyes, I know I’d succumb. But I can’t stop thinking about Kane.
And that’s why I’m currently rummaging through the piles of bags cluttering Kacey’s entryway.
When I find the small rectangular box, relief floods through me, a surprising lightness after hours of heavy thoughts. I slice it open and waste no time putting the phone on charge.
As it powers up, the display is blank. Black. A simple swirl of dark patterns. Nothing else.
No bare chest. No bright markings. No wet, dark curls or water droplets dripping down muscle…
And the contacts list is… empty. Their numbers aren’t even saved.
I sigh, slumping against the kitchen counter.
When there’s a ping.
Unknown: What has you awake at this hour?
I frown.
Me: How did you know I’ve activated this phone?
Unknown: All of our phones are on a private network. One that I control. It means I know when any of us are on or offline.
Unknown: And I may have set an alert for yours.
Unknown: Sorry.
