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"You were thinking it."

"Yes."

"People don't disappear on schedules."

Nyra looks down at the page. "No but if something needs something..." She doesn't finish. Nobody asks her to. The silence becomes the bad kind.

Cassian notices too. I see it in him. His shoulders straighten. His mouth opens. For a second I expect a joke. He doesn't make one. Instead— "We should sleep." Nyra looks surprised. Cassian gives a small shrug. "Tomorrow won't care whether we do."

That may be the saddest thing I've ever heard him say. Caelen walks me back to my room. Obviously. I'm too tired to argue. Halfway there, we pass the command corridor. The door is open. Chiefs inside. Maps. Reports. Rhyven stands at the far end of the table. He looks up when we pass. No one stops. No one speaks. But for one heartbeat his expression changes when he sees me beside Caelen. Relief. Then work again. I keep walking.

In bed, I think about Lysa. Twenty seconds. That's all. No scream. No struggle. No ward fluctuation. No blood. No broken branch anyone could follow. A person standing beside someone else then not. Saturday. Monday. Wednesday. Every two days. Maybe coincidence. Probably coincidence. Three points. Not enough. I repeat that until sleep almost finds me. Then another thought arrives. Quiet. Unwanted. If Nyra is right Friday is next. Friday.

My Council manifestation evaluation.

I stare into the darkness. Three points aren't a pattern. Not yet. But for the first time, I find myself hoping we never get a fourth.

Chapter Thirty-four

Thursday feels like a date everyone is pretending not to count toward. No one says tomorrow. No one needs to. Nyra and I sit through Magical History while Professor Aldren explains prewar diplomatic failures, and I realize halfway through the lecture that I have written the same three names in the margin of my notes. Jonas — Saturday. Elara — Monday. Lysa — Wednesday. Below them... A blank line. Friday.

I stare at it too long. Nyra notices. She reaches across and draws one firm line through the empty space.

I look at her. She keeps her eyes on Professor Aldren.

"Three points." She whispers.

"I know."

"Not a pattern."

"I know."

"Then stop inventing a fourth."

My jaw tightens."I'm not."

She finally looks at me. "You left room for one."

I look back down. Damn her. Slowly, I turn the page.

Professor Aldren asks a question. I miss it. Again.

"Eirea." Nyra nudges me.

I look up. Professor Aldren is staring directly at me. "Miss Vaelith."

"Sorry."

"I gathered."

A few students smile. He gestures toward the board. "Why did the Council fail to identify the early signs of organized conflict before the Silent War?"

My stomach tightens. Of all the questions. I look toward the dates written across the chalkboard. Reports. Disputes. Border tension. Nothing that sounded catastrophic until history decided it had been.

"Because they evaluated each event separately."

Professor Aldren's expression changes slightly.