Well, that explains the silence. “I’m... better than before,” I tell him, though I can’t quite bring myself to add that better doesn’t exactly mean good. “Can you meet me right now? I want to run something by you. If Leo or Zesi are free, bring them along, too.”
“Yeah, of course,” he says. “At... at your place? Or where?”
The way he stumbles over it is like a neon arrow pointing to the truth I am reluctant to admit: it will never feel like before. There is no forgetting that kiss, no forgetting all the awkward fumbling that has come after it. It isn’t that Heath and I are wrong for each other. I just never saw it coming.
If I’m honest, I don’t exactlywantto forget. But I just can’t do this right now. I can’t be someone to him—to anyone. Not when I have to be someone toeveryone. It’s too much pressure.
“Linds?” he says when I’m quiet. “Lindley, you still there?”
I’m making too much out of this. He can come over like he always has. We can be alone together without anything happening to make things even more awkward. Probably.
“Bring Leo and Zesi, okay? If they’re not free, tell them it’s urgent.” Leo and Zesi will make a good buffer, for everyone’ssake. “My place is fine. Just come over as soon as you can.”
My reflection stares back at me as I end the call, but I can’t look her in the eye. The choice I’m about to make—one that risks life to save life—feels like the furthest thing from a victory.
25
THRONE OF CHAINS
NOT TEN MINUTES later, Heath is at my door.
Alone.
“Zesi and Leo didn’t pick up,” he says. “I tried them each twice.” He glances past me, over my shoulder. I’m blocking the door more than I realized.
“Sorry,” I say, shifting out of the way. “Come in.”
I follow him inside. As soon as I’ve stepped out from the jamb, the door slides shut behind me. “Weird that they wouldn’t answer,” I say. Especially with Heath trying them each twice.
Heath sits on the purple love seat, which gives me pause—does he expect me to sit beside him on it? My mother’s chair feels slightly too far away, but it’s the only other chair in this room. The love seat isn’t a terrible option, justcozy, close. I’m worried about encouraging the wrong impression.
I choose my mother’s chair.
“They’re probably just busy,” he says. “You said it was urgent, so I didn’t think I should wait. What’s going on?” He picks upmy deck of cards from where it sits on the end table, shuffles twice before putting it back in a neat stack. Maybe it’s just the way the light’s falling on him as he shifts under it, shine and shadow in all the right places, but I’ve never noticed how attractive he is. How have we been so close for this long and I’m only just now seeing it?
“I—” Now that I’m sitting in the chair, Heath really does feel too far away, awkwardly so. I don’t want to have an entire conversation with ten feet between us. “Sorry,” I say, “I feel like I should move closer.”
I move over near the love seat, sit on the cork floor and lean back. I turn, resting my elbow on the purple cushion, so I can see his face.
“Better?” he says, amused.
My cheeks flush. “I just tried calling Shapiro about our shipment,” I start. Better to get right to business. “It... didn’t work. The system wouldn’t connect.” I take a deep breath. If there’s anyone I can confess my mistakes to, it’s Heath—he’s never given me a hard time for making a mistake, ever. “I’d told Shapiro earlier we’d be okay waiting a few extra days for a shipment, but after talking to Natalin... I... needed to tell him ASAP that the delay wasn’t going to work after all.”
I watch as it sinks in, wonder if he’s leaped to the same fears as I have. “So,” he says, “on top of the obviously unsettling system issues—you’re worried he might send the shipment as planned, and it’ll get to us too late?”
“I’m worried about what the system failure itself implies,” I say. “That they might not be able to send a shipment at all.”
He’s quiet for a long moment. I can feel the empathy radiating off him—like he’swithme in this, trying to figure out how to fix it, and not just thinking about how I shouldn’t have made the mistake in the first place.
“I’ve been thinking about the idea you mentioned earlier,” I finally say. “HowNautiluscould be an option—the more I think about it, the more I’m convinced they’d be able to spare a water filter. Surely they have a backup, right? I’ve been looking through my mother’s records, and Nashville sent a comprehensive delivery itinerary for this year’s shipments toNautilus, Radix, and our station—looks likeNautilusreceived a heavy cargo load just two months ago. With their tiny crew, their current filter should still be going strong. Heavy cargo loads tend to come with backup supplies, right? I’d bet all the stars they received replacement filters.”
Heath is quiet, not nearly as enthusiastic as I expect for someone who came up with the idea. Not nearly as enthusiastic as I’d expect from Heath, period. “So... you’re not worried anymore about infecting them?”
“No, I still totally am, but I’ve been weighing the risks.” I take a deep breath, look up into his eyes. “I think we should go to them. I thinkyoushould go to them.”
This,this: this wakes him up.
“Lindley—no—I haven’t flown in a year!”
