Holding my breath, I ease open the door to our suite, wincing at the soft creak of the hinges. The hallway beyond is dark, lit only by the glow of spelled torches turned down to their nighttime setting.
I slip out and pull the door closed behind me.
The common room of Hydra Hall is mostly empty at this hour, but a few people are clustered around the Shatterglass Basin, talking in hushed voices. The obsidian pool glows with its mirror-like fire, casting shifting shadows across the walls.
I keep my head down and move to the main exit, hoping to slip past unnoticed.
“Avery?”
I freeze and turn to find Tyler Brennan sprawled across one of the armchairs near the Basin, his long legs hanging over the armrest like furniture is just a suggestion. His sandy hair is more disheveled than usual, and there’s a half-empty glass of amber liquid balanced on the chair’s arm.
His emberlinked partner died in the hellhound attack,I remind myself.Deacon Park.
Pain twists in my stomach at the sight of him. Tyler Brennan has always been the guy who floats through life without a care, the one who shows up late to everything and gets away with it. But sitting here in the dark with that glass in his hand, staring at flame-visions he probably doesn’t want to see, he looks... smaller. Like grief has given him a grim layer of dirt that won’t wash off.
He sits up slightly, squinting at me in the dim light. “Where are you headed? It’s like...” He glances at the clock and blinks. “Wow. It’s really late, yeah?”
My mind races. Tyler’s not sharp. Tyler doesn’t overthink things.
But Tyler also lost half of himself the same way I did.
“The Worship Center.” The lie tumbles out before I can think it through. “I couldn’t sleep, and I thought praying might help.” I drop my gaze to the floor, letting my grief bleed through before looking back up at him. “For Oliver.”
His expression shifts into real understanding, the kind that only comes from shared pain.
“Yeah,” he says, quieter now, without his usual easy confidence. “I get that. I’ve been...” He gestures at the glass, at the Basin with its unsettling visions, and at the late hour. “You know.”
I do know. That’s the worst part.
“I’m sorry about Deacon,” I say.
His mouth presses into a thin line, and for a moment, I think he might crack. But then he runs a hand through his hair and forces an echo of his usual easy smile.
“It’s weird, right? Everyone keeps saying they’re sorry, and I keep saying thanks, and none of it means anything.” He pauses. “You probably get that, too.”
“I do.”
The silence between us feels heavier than it would have a month ago. Tyler was always Oliver’s friend—not mine. He was the popular one who took me to the Halloween Ball because Oliver asked him to, who coordinated costumes and tried to make me laugh while I was hiding my heartache about seeing Oliver with Jade.
Now we’re both just... broken.
“The Worship Center’s nice at night,” he says. “I went there a few times after...” He doesn’t finish the sentence. “Anyway, be careful out there, okay?”
“I will.” I’m already backing toward the door, guilt churning in my stomach. Because Tyler’s being kind, trying to connect with me, and I’m lying to his face. “Thanks.”
“It’s all good.” He reaches for his glass, then pauses. “Hey, Avery?”
I stop with my hand on the door.
“If you ever want to just... sit and not talk about it?” He shrugs one shoulder. “I’m around.”
The offer is genuine, and that’s what gets me. Tyler Brennan, who’s never taken anything seriously in his life, is offering me comfort.
“I appreciate that,” I manage around the lump in my throat. “Really.”
Then I’m through the door and out into the covered walkway, guilt and grief warring in my chest.
The night air is cold and damp, carrying the salt smell of the sea. I pull my jacket tighter and hurry to the Worship Center, just in case someone’s watching.
