“How old are you really?” Every time Nate had ever asked, Alden had given him a different age.
“Would be twenty this summer.” He opened his eyes again and struggled to focus on Nate. “Began misbehaving at a tender age. Don’t tell.”
“I won’t,” Nate said, heart shattering. Alden must have been a child when he’d taken over the curio shop. When he’d started pushing chem and losing himself in it to forget.
Alden hissed and tensed up, his eyes squeezing shut.
“I’m right here,” Nate said. That’s all he could say. That’s what James had told him to do. “You—you can let go.”
“Rushing me out the door, Natey?” Alden asked, peering one eye open.
“Shut up.” Nate sniffled and scrubbed at his eyes with his forearms. He took Alden’s hand and kissed his dry knuckles.
Muffled shouting sounded outside. Alden’s expression gentled to a true smile. He closed his eyes, and the tight furrow at his brow smoothed out. “Take care of that little alley cat.”
“Pixel? She’ll take care of all of us.”
“I like her. Give her shiny things always.”
“Does it hurt?” Nate asked.
Alden nodded faintly.
“I’m sorry.”
“Mmm. Can’t be helped. Please burn me up. None of that pageantry at the sludge-shore.” Alden panted, drained by every word. “I’m simply not dressed for it.”
Nate choked. “I’m going to miss you.”
“Of course you will.” Alden sighed. “You’re going to be terribly bored.”
They fell into silence.
Sunlight shimmered through the dusty window, catching Nate’s eye.
When he looked down, Alden was gone.
The stillness had come so quickly, settling in between one labored breath and eternity.
Nate pressed his hand over his mouth to stifle a sob. Tears ran down his cheeks, over his fingers. Grief blanketed him, as heavy as sickness, squeezing his chest until it burned. He wanted to keep talking to Alden, to always hear his voice. To always be his friend.
“Alden,” he whispered. “You rat. You weren’t supposed to go.”
Alden’s eyes were closed, but he didn’t look like he was sleeping. He looked dead. And the ugliness of it was all wrong.
The window shimmered again. This time, Nate squinted at it and wiped his nose. The hair stood up on his arms.
As Nate drew himself up to look through the dusty glass, the pane shattered with a crack, and the rancid smell of gasolex filled the room. Before he could shout, the fluttering curtains burst into flames.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Nate didn’t spare a moment to think. He jumped across the chairs, launching himself from one cushion to the next, and leapt into the flaming curtains. Pain flashed through his hands. He held on and used his weight to pull.
He had to get them down before the whole room went up in flames.
Come on.
The curtain rod whined, buckled, and finally gave. Nate crashed to the floor with the curtains twisting around him. Burning. His initial burst of excited fear became panic as he got tangled in the curtains and his sleeve caught on fire. He twisted, trying to roll and dampen the flames.
