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" Forgetting him was like
Tryna know somebody you've never met "
―WE FIND ALINA on her knees after she stormed away upstairs to contact the Darkling through her strange bond with him, her hands holding the windowsill so tightly that her knuckles have turned into little white stars, her forehead pressed against the wall. Her sobs are ragged and tears streak her cheeks. I feel a pang of sadness upon seeing her like this and feel my throat tighten as I gently take her shoulders and sit her down on the edge of the bed. Tamar takes a seat next to the Sun Summoner while Nadia combs through the latter's hair, Genya washing her face and hands with a damp cloth.
Zoya and I stay back. I'm aware that physical touch has never been her love language, and though I don't share the same sentiment, I know that Alina probably needs space, not a hug that will squeeze the life out of her.
"He has the students," Alina says flatly. "Twenty-three children. He killed the teachers. And Botkin. Mal―"
"He told us," Nadia tells her quietly, referring to the tracker being the third amplifier.
I swallow and remember Botkin, his accent and the fierce look of his smile, how he trained me and honed my skills to their very peaks like a blade sharpened. My chest tightens as Genya leans on Alina's shoulder and Tamar takes her hand.
Don't cry, I think to myself. Not now.
"How long do we have?" Tamar asks quietly.
"Five days."
A knock sounds on the door and Mal enters. Tamar shuffles over to make room for him beside Alina on the bedside.
"Bad?" he asks.
Alina nods. "I have five days to surrender, or he'll use the Fold again."
"He'll do it anyway," Mal states. "You said so yourself. He'll find a reason."
"I might buy us time―"
"At what cost? You were willing to give up your life." He lowers his voice ever so slightly. "Why won't you let me do the same?"
"Because I can't bear it," Alina whispers.
Mal's eyes harden and he encircles his fingers around Alina's wrist, where the third amplifier was meant to be. "You will bear it," he tells her firmly. "Or all of these deaths, all we've given up, will be for nothing."
Genya clears her throat awkwardly. "Um. The thing is, you may not have to. David has an idea."
---
"IT WAS GENYA'S idea, wasn't it?" I ask as we crowd around a table beneath the lip of a roof, only a few blocks away from the boardinghouse we were holed up in before.
