Page 866 of End Game

The Reliquary.

The nights where we barely played because everything outside the game needed attention first, and the nights where we played precisely because everything outside the game needed attention.

I remember the years before her.

And everything after.

I take off my glasses and clean them, even though they aren’t dirty.

It gives me something to do with my hands.

Griffin notices.

“You okay?” he asks.

I put my glasses back on. “Yes.”

He waits.

I sigh. “I’m also sad.”

Dex gasps softly. “Holy shit.”

“Don’t.”

“Ronan has an emotion.”

“Everyone has emotions.”

“Not like this. Normally yours come with citations.”

Micah laughs.

Cami reaches across the corner of the table and puts her hand over my wrist below the tattoo, careful not to touch the healing skin.

I look down at her hand, then up at her.

“Thank you,” she says.

“For what?”

She gestures toward the table.

“This.”

It isn’t specific enough to answer.

Maybe that is the point.

I turn my wrist beneath her fingers and squeeze her hand once.

“You’re welcome.”

Dex looks around the table.

“So what the fuck do we do next Thursday?”

I stare at him.