Page 230 of Carousel

It’s been the longest of days.

And the most ridiculous of weeks.

But it’s finally coming to an end. Today, I realise, is Sixth Day.

I don’t excuse us from the table. I was here for the food, and the food only, and I want Dezeeves to see that. I catch sight of him, his frown, in my periphery, but he doesn’t stop us.

Cosmer walks behind me rather than at my side. I’m not sure why I notice that, or why it seems to bother me. I suppose I just thought he might hold my hand.

We stop in the hallway when we see Meg. She’s standing with her back against a wall, clutching her radio to her chest the way a child might clutch a blanket, the antenna brushing her lip. Her eyes are massive, like a ghost has possessed her, and if she opened her mouth, she’d only wail.

Cosmer approaches her right away. “What’s wrong?”

Blinking rapidly, she retracts the antenna and deposits the radio back into her belt.

“Ephraine is dead,” she mutters, not looking at us.

“Dead?” Cosmer’s frown skews his face more. If a wind blew right now, Old Mother would say it would stay like that forever. “Was he killed in the battle?”

“No. He was on The Mantis. Someone from the ship finally answered the radio.”

“Cosmer, come on,” I say. But he’s still staring at Meg.

Don’t ask her. Don’t ask her.

“How did he die, then?”

No.

It’s like being crushed.

Why? Why did he need to ask?

“In the ship’s Osimidite Chamber. Which I cannot understand. He trained his body so hard. Cared for it. I can only think he must have been made to go there, against his will⁠—”

Her eyes, which have been pacing the room, now land on me.

She closes her mouth.

Her eyes narrow. Go from dark, to darker, to darkest black.

She doesn’t say another word. Just spins on her heel and storms back through the grate.

Cosmer turns to me, too, a question in his eyes. “Ephraine, on huff?” he says, disbelieving. “Must have lost his mind. What did he say to you, when you spoke to him?”

I take a breath.

I hate this.

But it’s for the best.

“Honestly, Cosmer,” I say. “Nothing of note. Like I told you.”

His shoulders lift up slightly.

But then they drop.

“Okay,” he says.