He gave the truth.
The one I confessed while crying on the porch.
The one no one else has ever understood.
The judge nods. “Correct.”
“Question for Sloane,” the judge continues, turning to me. “What is Cohen’s favorite place?”
I look at him.
I think about the stadium. About exclusive clubs.
But then I think about how he holds me at night. About how he only truly relaxes when we’re shut away from the rest of the world. About how he’s bloomed over these months, revealing parts of himself he may never have shown anyone before.
“Here,” I answer, my voice steady. “With people who don’t ask anything of him except to be himself.”
Cohen smiles.
It’s a slow, stunned smile—worth more than a thousand victories.
“Correct.”
We grab the second key.
We’re stepping out of the station when Lucy and Lars come running in. Lars has literally smashed through part of a hedge to save time.
“Move!” Lucy yells, more competitive than I’ve ever seen her.
We run.
My legs start to burn. The cold slices down my throat.
Third Station: The Balance Trial.
A narrow beam suspended over a pool of icy water and mud. We have to cross it together, holding hands, without falling.
We step onto it. The beam sways.
“Look at me,” Cohen says. “Don’t look down. Just look at me.”
I lock onto his eyes. They’re my anchor.
We move step by step, perfectly synchronized, our breaths mixing. Cohen walks backward to guide me.
We’re halfway across when Joe and Sarah reach the station.
How are they already here? They were behind everyone.
I catch Joe in my peripheral vision. He’s furious. Desperate.
“Move!” he shouts at Sarah, shoving her onto the beam parallel to ours.
His aggression makes the structure vibrate. Our beam wobbles dangerously.
I slip.
“Sloane!”
