I need to warn him—about Stark, about the wormhole, abouteverything.
Even the part I’ve been too scared to say out loud.
I sprint through the base, heart pounding like it’s trying to break free from my chest. The corridors blur past—steel and synth and recycled air pressing close around me like a warning. I check the hangar. Empty. Sim lab. Vacant.
Then I remember the override I gave him.
My quarters.
No. Not after what Verzius said. He wouldn’t be there.
Unless...
He’s in his.
I turn sharp on my heel and head for Kaz’s quarters.
The door’s unlocked.
I step inside without knocking.
He’s sitting on the edge of his bunk, back to me, staring at the wall like it might answer all the questions tearing him apart.
I take one step in, and he speaks without turning.
“You hadyears, Nova.”
His voice is low. Controlled.
Like ice under pressure.
“You had years,” he says again, standing now, turning slowly. “You let me hold him. You let melaughwith him. You let me look my own son in the face and not know.”
My mouth opens. Closes.
The words stick.
He takes a step closer. “Why?”
“Because youleft,” I snap, louder than I mean to. “You disappeared. No comms. No trace. I was pregnant and alone and scared out of my damn mind, Kaz.”
“You think Iabandonedyou?” His eyes go wide. “I was shot out of orbit over a black zone! I almostdiedtrying to get back to you!”
“You didn’t come back.”
“Itried!”
“You didn’t tryhard enough!”
The words hit like gunfire. The kind that echoes long after the impact.
Kaz paces, fists clenched. “You should’ve told me the second I showed up.”
“I was going to!”
“When?”
I swallow hard.
