“Ava?” I repeated.
She continued speaking like she hadn’t heard me. “But I might need to look back on them. I could add them to my Aunt Maddie’s journal. I could—”
I grabbed Ava’s shoulders, to steady her mind. I could feel her spiraling. I always knew when she was about to crack, and I couldn’t help it. I ran to her when she was like that. It was an instinct built inside of me to catch her, and no matter what was between us or how we’d messed things up, I couldn’t break that urge to protect her and make her feel safe again.
It’d never go away.
She leaned into me and began sobbing. “I can’t, Charlie! I can’t do it.”
I stroked her hair as I held her. “I know this is hard, pidge.”
The nickname slipped out and sent a pang through my heart, but Ava didn’t seem to notice.
She drew away from me and sniffled. “No, you don’t understand. I can’t do this. I can’t make something to counteract these crystals. I said I’d look into it because I didn’t want Marcus and Kallie to feel hopeless, but I wouldn’t even know where to start. I don’t know a single earthly property or potion that’ll counteract these crystals. And if therewassome way to make something, we certainly don’t have the resources at the Institute. We’re stuck with these crystals, and if the Warden plants more of them on our professors, I don’t know how long we can hold out.”
“Let’s hope his supply is limited,” I said to soothe her, but it didn’t seem to help.
“We don’t know! We don’t know enough about any of it. We’re up against something I can’t even comprehend, Charlie. I don’t know where to go next.”
I drew her into my arms again, and she sagged against me. This wasn’t the Ava who had danced on the stripper pole last night, proclaiming her confidence to the world. She wasn’t pissed at me right now— not like she ought to be. This was bigger than what was going on between us, and we both knew it.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
“You don’t have to apologize for the Warden.”
“No, I don’t. I’m sorry about everything else. I’m sorry about what I said to you. I’m sorry you’re here at the Institute. I’m sorry about what happened to Monica.”
Ava sniffled. “You don’t have to be. That happened years ago.”
“Not for me,” I stated gently.
Ava pulled away from me. Her hands shook as she held my arms, as if trying to keep herself upright. “What do you mean?”
“Have you had any strange dreams lately?” I asked.
“Um, a few. I can’t make sense of them. They’re just noises and sensations. I can’t see anything.”
“That’s because you’re dreaming frommyperspective,” I told her, my voice trembling. There was once a time when I wanted to share everything with Ava-Marie, but not like this. I didn’t want her to relive the traumas of my past.
“You dreamt of Monica?” she asked.
“Yeah,” I admitted in a raspy voice.
“Ancestors, Charlie,” she breathed. “I’m so sorry. You never should’ve seen that—”
“I’ve been through things like this before,” I cut her off. “You don’t have to apologize. It wasn’t your fault.”
Her voice came out small. “I haven’t been able to convince myself of that.”
“I don’t want you to worry about what I’m experiencing,” I said. “I just thought you’d want to know that maybe I’m starting to understand you better.”
“But why?” she questioned. “Why are we having these dreams?”
It pained me to admit what I’d suspected aloud. “Maybe the more we stay apart, the more the bond drives us together.”
Ava scoffed. “It’s going to drive us mad.”
“Oberi, any idea?” I asked him.
