I don’t soften.
“This isn’t a discussion,” I say. “It’s a notice.”
Bones swears under his breath. “You’re serious.”
“Yes.”
“How soon?” Ghost asks.
“Now. Valentine’s on his way to get me.”
The street goes quiet in that strange way it does when something irrevocable is said out loud.
Honey exhales shakily. Ghost’s gaze sharpens. Hatchet’s attention locks on me completely.
Snow pushes off the wall. “You can’t.”
“I can,” I reply. “And I will.”
Nightshade turns on Snow, voice deadly calm. “Then you’re done.”
Snow looks at each of them in turn, then back at me. Whatever he sees there finally settles it.
“I won’t follow you,” he says.
I nod. “I know.”
He steps back. Once. Twice.
Then he turns and walks away.
No explanation.
No goodbye.
Just absence.
And in the sudden stillness he leaves behind, I realise this isn’t just a choice anymore.
It’s a declaration.
And everything after this is going to hurt.
Snow disappearsaround the corner without looking back.
For a moment, no one moves.
The street feels too open now, like something vital has just been torn out of it. Early morning traffic hums at the far end of the road. A delivery van passes. Life continues, indifferent.
Nightshade’s jaw tightens, anger flaring sharp and immediate. “You went behind our backs.”
“I went in front of my own life,” I reply. “There’s a difference.”
“You could have told us,” Bones says.
“I did,” I answer. “Just now.”
Ghost drags a hand through his hair, breathing still hard. “Kayla?—”
