Before everything unraveled between us. Now I remember. It was before my mother died, before the Republic arrested me. It was the beginning of being forever linked with her.

I turn back to her. “But nothing’s unraveling for you now, yeah? You seem really happy these days,” I say.

She smiles a little. “I am,” she replies. “Tess is still doing well. You know she’s been promoted to head doctor of her hospital? I see her often. Pascao and I hang out constantly. Life has settled into a nice routine, and it made me realize how much I missed having that.” She nods out at the city. “Some sense of balance. Of normalcy after the war. Isn’t that strange?”

Normalcy. Routine. I find myself smiling at her, content to know that she was content. Then I wonder if my presence in her life—and all the chaos it currently has—would disrupt all of that for her.

Maybe I’ve always been the reason for the unraveling of her life.

She looks at me. “And yours?” she asks. “What has your life been like?”

I shrug and look away, reluctant to break this peaceful moment with my problems. “Good,” I reply. “Great, actually. Sometimes I still can’t believe I live here, in luxury. I’ll never have to spend another day fighting to survive in the streets.”

June hears the hesitation in my answer. “But you’re fighting something,” she says.

For a moment, everything in me resists telling her. But June steps closer to me and forces me to face her head-on, then crosses her arms. “Tell me,” she says, her eyes dark and warm.

Her presence is overwhelming in every sense. I have to tear my gaze away from hers in order to think straight.

Finally, with a deep breath, I start to tell her. I mention the missions I’ve been running lately in Ross City, the man I’ve been hunting down. I tell her about the hierarchies of this place’s skyscraper tiers, how the Leveling divides the classes, how even though it’s all more fluid than anything in the Republic, it’s still as imperfect as anything else in this world. I tell her about the murders of anyone who has been unable to pay their debts to Dominic Hann, and the seedy underground of the Undercity.

Then I tell her of Eden’s involvement, how he has entangled himself in something so much more dangerous than he knows.

June frowns. “You weren’t afraid of Dominic Hann before Eden met him,” she says, studying me.

“He was a job before then,” I reply, “until I saw the same culprit from our crime photos walking up to my brother. And now the AIS wants Eden to join the investigation, to lure the man out of hiding.”

June doesn’t answer right away, but her eyes are steady. They steady me. Somehow, in the midst of everything going wrong between Eden and me, her presence is a comfort in the dark. I don’t feel alone confessing all this to her.

“You still know Eden better than anyone else,” June says after a while. “He’s your brother. You’ve protected him all your life, and I know he understands that.”

“It’s my protection of him that seems to have pushed him away.” I run a frustrated hand through my hair, ruffling it. “I used to think that nothing in the world could ever divide us. But then Eden grew older. He’s changed, maybe for the better. But there are things he doesn’t tell me now, and I don’t know how to guess what he’s thinking.”

June smiles. “You’ll never be able to guess what he’s thinking,” she replies. “Metias always tried with me, you know. He never really succeeded, but we’d still been linked. You and Eden have a bond that’s unbreakable. No matter what he isn’t telling you, he still loves you more than anyone else in the world. I know it. I’ve seen it.”

Metias. The brother that June had lost, the death that had, fatefully, brought us together. I search her gaze and find grief there, but also a sense of peace. “He practically raised you,” I say gently. “I wish I could measure up to that. I’ve tried being a good father figure for Eden, but … sometimes I wonder if he’s worse off for it.”

“You’re afraid for him,” June says. “That he wants to help in this investigation of a dangerous criminal.”

“I’m always afraid for him,” I reply.

There’s a deep understanding in June’s eyes. “You’ve helped Eden come into his own as a person. Everything about him is modeled after you, in the best way. Don’t you see that? But, Daniel, he’s not a helpless child. He’ll resist every attempt you make to insulate him from the world. Let him in a little. Let someone else offer their shoulder to you. Maybe he’s pushing away because he loves you, because he worries for you just like you worry for him.”

“I know he’s not helpless,” I mutter, shoving my hands into my pockets. “But the AIS isn’t keen on his safety. No one is. I’m the steward of that.”

“I wasn’t talking completely about Eden’s safety. I was also talking about yours.” A slight furrow creases in June’s brow. “Something you never seem to be as concerned about as you should. Others worry for you too, you know. You would do well to acknowledge that.”

Her rephrasing instantly sends a stab of guilt through me. “I’m sorry,” I admit, turning my eyes down. “I’m just worried for him.” Outside, the southern lights have begun their evening dance, painting the sky in ribbons of turquoise and white. “Hann isn’t going to forget about him. He’s probably got his men investigating the power outage I triggered down in the Undercity. He’s not going to let Eden go that easily, not when he seemed fascinated enough to come out of hiding to see him race.”

June shakes her head. “Eden hasn’t changed at all, has he?” she says quietly.

At that, a smile sneaks onto the corner of my lips. “It’s the best and worst thing about him. He does things that shake entire structures of society. He finds himself at the center of everything, without ever trying to do anything other than help someone. Sometimes I wonder what John would think if he were still here, how proud he’d be of his kid brother.” I grimace a little. “I just wish it wasn’t always something that could get the damn kid killed. Sometimes it’s noble. Sometimes it’s just stupid. It’s a fine line.”

June smiles gently at me. “Noble. Sometimes stupidly so. At the center of everything because he’s always trying to help someone. It sounds to me like he takes after someone I know.”

I grin a little at that. “I did what I had to do.”

“You do what you believe is right. Always. And doing what’s right tends to be hard.”

I look at her. “You aren’t exactly a conformer yourself, Ms. Iparis,” I say, turning to face her directly now. “I think the Republic has a few things to say about that.”

She smiles again and looks away from me to the view beyond the window. I know she’s thinking about her brother now. “The Republic’s changing slower than I would like. Anden’s doing his best, but the politics of it all makes me impatient.” She runs an idle hand through her hair, and the gesture reminds me of another forgotten memory, of her fingers through her shining ponytail, the hair hanging long past her shoulders.