freezing in place for fear of his answer.
“We’re not going far—we’ll take one of the moving pathways.”
Since I don’t hear the word
cannon
, I follow him through the hedge. “What’s—?”
“This way.” Instead of stepping onto the wide pathway I walked down earlier, Hysan cuts to a small alley between Nishi’s mansion and the adjoining one, where the road is a river of polished stone. The street looks as if it’s squeezing itself through the suburb’s mismatched homes in a deliberate direction that leads toward the tall buildings on the horizon.
The moment we step onto the smooth stone, it starts to move. I grip Hysan’s hand tighter in surprise.
He grins at me. “High-powered Sagittarians who work together often also live near each other so they can install these moving pathways for a speedy commute. It appears Nishi’s parents are pretty powerful Stargazers. Does she ever talk to you about them?”
“Nishi’s better with questions than answers, especially when it comes to her family.” Since I don’t like talking about Mom either, that’s always worked out fine for us. It’s one thing Nishi and I have always agreed on—leaving the past in the past.
The day’s heavy sheet of clouds has broken up, and rays of sunlight pierce through the sky like spotlights. I don’t think Hysan likes revisiting his past much either, and I can see why. I sneak a glance up at him as we cross through a sunray, the light making his hair glimmer like gold. Meeting Miss Trii made his childhood seem less lonely, but it also made it sound less
child
like. Hysan didn’t just grow up without parents—he had to build his own.
When our silence starts to grow noticeably long, I ask, “How’s Miss Trii?”
“Same as ever. Probably a day from landing on Aeolus. She ingested a few thousand files on Risers, so when she arrives she’ll be able to advise Lord Neith.” The pathway moves us forward at a surprisingly clipped pace. I’m secretly relieved for the extra security of our interlocked hands.
I wait for Hysan to offer more, or to ask me a question back, but he seems to have finally run out of conversation. His brow is faintly furrowed, and his irises have faded, the way they do when he’s deep in thought. Today it feels like we’re both keeping secrets.
“Rho,” he says gravely.
He shifts to face me, his fingers still laced with mine. “I know you need space after everything that’s happened, and I’ve been trying to give it to you. But this distance between us is starting to feel forced.”
I nod in agreement.
“I know you have a lot on your mind, but you don’t have to endure it alone. If you want to talk—about
anything
—I promise I’ll listen. Without judgment.” Even though he doesn’t say his name, I know he’s talking about Mathias. But the mere thought of him sucks me back inside my shell, and my fingers fidget involuntarily inside Hysan’s grasp.
He must feel my reaction, because he gently releases my hand. I’m too embarrassed to meet his gaze, so I silently stare into the colorful buildings ahead that are growing larger on our approach.
“Tell me how you’re feeling,” he pleads into my ear, his voice husky and soft.
My muscles clamp with discomfort. I don’t know how to ask Hysan what even I don’t understand: How can I still be so torn between him and Mathias when Mathias is gone forever?
“I’ll take a one-word answer, if necessary.” His tone is more insistent now. “Just don’t abandon me here. Please, Rho.”
Abandon
tugs at something in my gut. It’s an action I associate with Mom, yet Hysan just used it about me. I wonder if I’ve been wrong about that word all my life.
Mom didn’t abandon us when she left home. She abandoned us long before that, by shutting us out. By never letting us get to know her.
“I’m sorry,” I say at last. Stanton already compared me to Mom once this week; that’s not a pathway I’m curious to explore.
“I do want
“We’re not going far—we’ll take one of the moving pathways.”
Since I don’t hear the word
cannon
, I follow him through the hedge. “What’s—?”
“This way.” Instead of stepping onto the wide pathway I walked down earlier, Hysan cuts to a small alley between Nishi’s mansion and the adjoining one, where the road is a river of polished stone. The street looks as if it’s squeezing itself through the suburb’s mismatched homes in a deliberate direction that leads toward the tall buildings on the horizon.
The moment we step onto the smooth stone, it starts to move. I grip Hysan’s hand tighter in surprise.
He grins at me. “High-powered Sagittarians who work together often also live near each other so they can install these moving pathways for a speedy commute. It appears Nishi’s parents are pretty powerful Stargazers. Does she ever talk to you about them?”
“Nishi’s better with questions than answers, especially when it comes to her family.” Since I don’t like talking about Mom either, that’s always worked out fine for us. It’s one thing Nishi and I have always agreed on—leaving the past in the past.
The day’s heavy sheet of clouds has broken up, and rays of sunlight pierce through the sky like spotlights. I don’t think Hysan likes revisiting his past much either, and I can see why. I sneak a glance up at him as we cross through a sunray, the light making his hair glimmer like gold. Meeting Miss Trii made his childhood seem less lonely, but it also made it sound less
child
like. Hysan didn’t just grow up without parents—he had to build his own.
When our silence starts to grow noticeably long, I ask, “How’s Miss Trii?”
“Same as ever. Probably a day from landing on Aeolus. She ingested a few thousand files on Risers, so when she arrives she’ll be able to advise Lord Neith.” The pathway moves us forward at a surprisingly clipped pace. I’m secretly relieved for the extra security of our interlocked hands.
I wait for Hysan to offer more, or to ask me a question back, but he seems to have finally run out of conversation. His brow is faintly furrowed, and his irises have faded, the way they do when he’s deep in thought. Today it feels like we’re both keeping secrets.
“Rho,” he says gravely.
He shifts to face me, his fingers still laced with mine. “I know you need space after everything that’s happened, and I’ve been trying to give it to you. But this distance between us is starting to feel forced.”
I nod in agreement.
“I know you have a lot on your mind, but you don’t have to endure it alone. If you want to talk—about
anything
—I promise I’ll listen. Without judgment.” Even though he doesn’t say his name, I know he’s talking about Mathias. But the mere thought of him sucks me back inside my shell, and my fingers fidget involuntarily inside Hysan’s grasp.
He must feel my reaction, because he gently releases my hand. I’m too embarrassed to meet his gaze, so I silently stare into the colorful buildings ahead that are growing larger on our approach.
“Tell me how you’re feeling,” he pleads into my ear, his voice husky and soft.
My muscles clamp with discomfort. I don’t know how to ask Hysan what even I don’t understand: How can I still be so torn between him and Mathias when Mathias is gone forever?
“I’ll take a one-word answer, if necessary.” His tone is more insistent now. “Just don’t abandon me here. Please, Rho.”
Abandon
tugs at something in my gut. It’s an action I associate with Mom, yet Hysan just used it about me. I wonder if I’ve been wrong about that word all my life.
Mom didn’t abandon us when she left home. She abandoned us long before that, by shutting us out. By never letting us get to know her.
“I’m sorry,” I say at last. Stanton already compared me to Mom once this week; that’s not a pathway I’m curious to explore.
“I do want
Similar Books
