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‘I’m scared.’

‘It’s okay to be scared.’ I begin to shake again but he moves closer, eyes trained on mine as he offers, ‘And I’ll be here. I’ll help you.’

‘You won’t help me, you hate me!’

‘I don’t hate you, Chaos. I don’t know how to.’ His eyes dart between mine.

‘You’ll help?’

He nods. Face mirroring my consternation. ‘As much as I can.’

Slowly, I peel back my fingers one by one from the memories I’d captured and bound, and one by one they’re set free and tear through me like bullets from a gun. It’s horrific. In fact, I think it’s even worse than I thought it’d be.

But beneath the chaos, there’s a single band of reprieve and it’s wrapped around my wrist. I feel a firm palm gripping me, pulling me back out from the whirlwind of despair and chaos. Just as I begin to crack, I hear his voice. Strong and certain.

‘No,’ he says to me. His voice is like an anchor in this storm. ‘You don’t crumble, Miller. Don’t let them win.’

Tears fill my eyes. Don’t I? I don’t think I’m equipped to win. I don’t think I have the hardware. I think I was built to lose. It’s all I ever do. Everything is heavy. Everything is old and worn and tired. It’d be so easy to just give in. To just let myself wallow. I can feel myself sinking again.

‘Uh-uh,’ he reprimands. His finger touches beneath my chin and he raises my downturned face. When I still won’t meet his gaze, he grips my chin and brings his cool grey eyes close enough to find my own and keep them locked on him. ‘Don’t you do that. Don’t you make yourself small. Fuck what they think. Fuck what they thought. You’re – you are strong, Miller. Fuck, you’ve fought me every step of the way, haven’t you? You’re strong, you hear me? You can hold onto that.’

I nod. I don’t believe it. I don’t believe Walker believes it either, but I nod. And maybe just hearing it is enough. Maybe just one person saying it makes it true enough that I can breathe again and not feel like the biggest waste of space in a world that’s overcrowded and growing. Walker stands and he pulls me to my feet with him.

He dusts my clothes. Straightens my collar and assesses the damage.

I tilt my head and watch as he works. Watch as he puts me back together. I watch as he waits for the voices to come again, and when they do, he looks at me with that stubborn, demanding expression and tells me to shut them out. I listen. And after a while they don’t seem to matter all that much. They hover like flies and then they disappear. Until eventually, all that’s left is the silence between us, even the wind has taken a break to catch its breath.

I’d like to say something. Thank you, maybe?

But it feels slightly inadequate when faced with what just happened. I doubt Walker would be interested in my gratitude.

He begins to walk, and for lack of anything else to do in this darkness we’re trapped in, I walk on beside him.

‘You’ll wake soon,’ he says.

‘Will I?’

‘Yes.’

‘How do you know?’

He looks me up and down. I see a ghost of a frown. ‘You’re fading.’

‘Where are we walking?’

‘I have a meeting,’ he says, clipped. Pissed.

I cringe. ‘I’m sor⁠—’

But he’s right. I am fading. And quickly. Walker continues the endless path and I fall behind. I go easy. I go quiet.

In my retreat, I swear I can hear him yelling to someone, or more likely, at someone. But I’m too far away now to hear what it is he says.

I wake up on the outskirts of the forest surrounded by a posse of dirty-looking roosters with switch blades. One wears an eye patch.

‘Get away from her, you filthy little deviants!’ Lavender calls out with what I call her prophecy boom-boom voice, and they all scatter. ‘Miller! Stars, we thought you⁠—’

I wave her off, get to my feet and stumble a bit. My body feels rough and rigid, like I’ve used it too much or too little. ‘I’m fine,’ I say, in an entirely unconvincing tone. Lavender worries her bottom lip and nods.