Britney sang a song to me while Kuthun watched.

Today, she chose to talk about misfortune and bliss. Two things I doubted any kid should know, let alone understand, but the combination was a beautiful thing.

When she stopped, the world turned.

Time froze for me again.

I would continue to live for another three days; then, she would sing for me again. Until my next song, I would be me, she would be her, and all would remain the same.

In truth, it all seemed way too mundane for the lives we already lived.

“Where would you go, if you could be anywhere?” I asked Britney as she fiddled with her hair. Ever since Kuthun had tied her bunches of curls up in buns, she’d been obsessed with the bunny-ear look—and the nickname. I couldn’t blame the eight-year-old—or technically, four-year-old—for that or for her answer.

“With Melody.”

“Melody?”

Britney pointed at the wall where Serena sat, watching us. I’d nearly forgotten she had another sister beyond Serah. The five-year-old girl was prone to invisibility. As far as I’d been told, only Serena could see the girl when she wished to go unnoticed, but Britney insisted the child learned more about her powers. Melody allowed Britney to see her, too.

“She wants to sing with me,” Britney said.

Then, all went quiet.

Where howling winds used to beat against the adoption house, now creaking did.

In a storm, the silence unsettled me more than the destruction.

“What’s happening?” Britney asked, watching me, then Melody, then the ceiling. At one point, she shook.

Even girls who could sing immortals into being had people they wanted to protect.

I laid my hand on her head to calm her. “It’s the eye.”

“It’s all right, bunny,” Kuthun seconded, and swept her up in his arms. She giggled immediately.

No matter how much more time I spent with the kids, Kuthun had always been better with them. Like he could speak their language and teach them to understand a new one at the same time. I both admired and envied him for it. Sometimes, I loved him for it, too. Though love between us had always been complicated and delicate and dark and lovely, it was like the music we played together. Only we could create it.

“What’s an eye?” Britney asked as others began to creep out from the hallways.

The break encouraged bad bloods to embrace exposure.

“That means we’re halfway there,” Kuthun explained.

“We have to go through all that again?” Skeleton whined from the wall. He pulled a cigarette from his shirt pocket. “At least we have each other,” he said, albeit sarcastically, then he stuck the cigarette in his lips and lit it.

Smoke curled up before Hanna yanked the cigarette out of mouth and threw it to the floor. Yasir stomped on it for her. Sparks scattered up into the air, but quickly burned out like fireflies on a summer day without thunder and lightning scaring them away.

Skeleton didn’t even flinch. Instead, he blew out what little smoke he drew into his lungs. “Quite the duo, you two are.”

“Give it a rest, Skeleton,” I interrupted, rubbing my temples all the while.

It always took a minute for Britney’s song to take complete effect, but it was worse when I had to pretend that Britney wasn’t keeping me alive.

Skeleton toed his cigarette. “I’m really gonna miss that.”

“You’ll be fine,” I countered, but Skeleton stood his ground.

“Not on a day like today.”

“What do you mean?”

“Someone left,” he said. “There’s a broken board in here.”

Though he pointed into the nearest room, no one had time to look—or register his words. Instead, Daniel burst into the hallway. “Where’s Serah?”

Serena leapt up. “What do you mean, where’s Serah?”

Skeleton whistled, then pointed one of his bone-fingers at the hole in the wall. “Little blonde girl went that way.”

Daniel’s cheeks drained of color. Serena nearly screamed. The only one who remained calm was Kuthun.

The future never surprised him, but his gaze always shocked me.

When I followed his eyes, they found Serah’s string and told me exactly where the child ran off to.

“I know where she went,” I said.

Kuthun jerked up like he hadn’t noticed how much I watched him. But, of course, he didn’t. He never did.

“She went after Violet,” I confirmed.

“What?” Serena blanched. “No, no way. Violet’s in the Highlands.”

I shook my head. “Violet’s trying to stop Connelly.” I inwardly cursed at myself as I pulled on my jacket. “She’s at the wall.”

“Which wall?”

“The only one left standing.”

The western one. From the Western Adoption House, we could run to it in under five minutes.

I should’ve known Violet would go by herself. I should’ve known Serah would’ve followed her, too.

“I’ll go after them,” I said, avoiding Kuthun’s stare as I made my way past Skeleton, Hanna, Yasir, and the others, but one person stood before me.

“She’s my sister,” Serena said, wild-eyed and unafraid. “I’ll go with you.”

Daniel reached for her arm. “But—”

“You stay here,” Serena ordered Daniel, and then she stood on her tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek. It hit him like a slap, though, because, in a moment, she was gone.

“She’s my sister, too,” Daniel whispered, more to himself than to me, but I knew what he meant.

Serena had Serah to protect. Daniel had Violet. But Daniel also had a hundred kids in an adoption house he ran, and I had already promised him one thing.

“I’ll keep her safe,” I repeated before I followed Serena through the hole.

The stale air hit me first, then the smells of the trashed road followed. My eyes itched against the stench and sudden light. When the sky began to brighten to blue, a circular gray cloud surrounded the city. It burned white against the sunlight. Worse was how calm it all was. Like predators luring prey into a trap with a false sense of peace. The only hint of deception was the uncomfortable humidity. It stuck to me.

“How long do you think we have?” Serena asked, momentarily frozen by the sky looming overhead. It looked demonic, surreal, and uncertain.

“Give or take fifteen minutes,” I said. “Probably ten.”

She cringed. “I thought you might say that.”

“Don’t make it nine,” I bit back. Before she could respond, I took off running.

I had to get to Violet. I needed to. But most of all, I hoped Daniel would have the sense to close the adoption house after us.

Chances were we weren’t making it back. Not unscathed. And keeping the adoption house open at all would only risk others who didn’t deserve to face more danger. Not now. Not toward the end. But if I knew anything about the end—about death—it was the fact that it wasn’t fair. It was the one thing bad bloods and humans always had in common. Tonight, the reminder hung over us in the form of an all-seeing storm.

Weather didn’t discriminate—not like politics did—and neither did death.