“You don’t know that,” I say.

This was a possibility. But now that we’re facing it I can’t quite catch my breath. The more I look at Erik, the more scared I become. What are the chances that we’ll both come back from this? I only got him back yesterday and now I’m losing him again.

I run my fingers along the faint scar where he applied my veil. “‘Love is not love which alters when it alteration finds,’” I murmur faintly, recalling his favorite sonnet. “I love you.”

“I love you,” he says with a smile, “‘even to the edge of doom.’”

He kisses me goodbye then and I melt into him, wishing for one more night or even a few minutes more, but it’s over before it begins.

An uncomfortable cough startles us apart and we look up to see Jost standing in the shadows, his thumbs hooked in the pockets of his jeans.

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to interrupt,” he says.

“We were … done,” Erik says, dropping his hands from me.

“Stop that,” Jost says.

“What?” Erik and I ask at the same time.

“Pretending like you aren’t in love,” he says. “It doesn’t bother me.”

How can that be possible when it bothers Erik and me so much?

“I’m sorry,” Erik says.

“Don’t be. Love is one thing no one should ever be angry over,” he says. “And without you two I wouldn’t have Sebrina now. Thank you for that.”

Embarrassed, I murmur, “You’re welcome.”

“You don’t have to thank us,” Erik says with a shake of his head. “You would have done the same for either of us.” I realize he’s right. Somehow, in the insanity of our time together, I managed to find a family, crazy and mixed up as it is. This is my family.

“I need you to promise me something.” Jost pauses, searching for the right words. “If anything happens to me, please take care of Sebrina.”

“You don’t have to ask that—” I begin.

“No, I do. Not because I don’t trust you, but because I need to know that if anything happens to me, Sebrina will be safe with you.”

“You’re coming back,” Erik says in a firm voice. “That little girl won’t lose another father. I swear on my own life.”

“I see you’re going to be a protective uncle.” Jost’s voice breaks as he speaks. He tries to cover it with a laugh.

“You’re our family,” I say, and Erik’s arm slides around my waist. “She’s our family, too.”

Jost gives me a genuine smile this time. Not the wicked grin he shares with his brother. This smile is warm and full of hope and it goes all the way to his eyes.

“Come here,” Erik says, waving his brother toward us.

He wraps an arm around each of us and we embrace, knowing this is probably the last time we’ll ever do so. I only know one thing: one of us has to survive for Sebrina.

“If I don’t make it—” I begin, but Erik shushes me. He seems incapable of accepting this possibility.

“No, please listen,” I continue. “Find Amie. She can take care of herself, but she’ll have questions. I need her to know why I did what I did.”

“She knows you’re a good person,” Erik says.

“Am I?” I ask.

“Yes,” both Erik and Jost say at the same time, and for the first time in a long time I believe it.

One of us has to live. To tell our story. To write it down. We’re the closest to the action of this tragedy—if it’s even a tragedy. I don’t think it is anymore. I think it’s a story of hope, unlikely as I once thought that was.

“I’ll leave you two alone,” Jost says, pushing Erik’s arm toward me.

But before we can linger in our goodbye, Dante appears, yelling for us to get going.

In the end, no more words pass between Erik and me. There is no final kiss. Only a look, worth more than any whispered farewell.

* * *

Loricel has set up in the makeshift rebound room they brought me through when I arrived. There’s a wide loom in front of her, larger than most I saw at the Coventry, including her personal loom in the high tower. It sits empty and I wish I could see the weave of Arras one more time, before it’s too late. I know it’s too dangerous to pull it up before we go, but there’s an ache building slowly in me at the thought of never touching the precise, wondrous strands on a loom again.

“How are you going to do this?” I ask her, staring at the instrument panel.

“It will be like when you rebounded through the various stations,” she says, adjusting gears in preparation.

“But that took an hour.”

“Because less talented people were at the looms and they had to wait for bureaucrats to tell them it was okay to start the process. Then, they were watched the whole time—”

“Okay.” I surrender. “I get it.”

“You’re in good hands,” she says.

“I wouldn’t trust anyone else to do this,” I say.

“That’s a shame,” Loricel says. “You must learn to open your heart again, Adelice.”

I think of Erik and Jost. I think of the little girl who might be dependent on me one day, and of my own sister. “I do trust people,” I say.

“I made you believe once that love is a liability.” Her eyes flicker to Albert.