“What’s wrong with you?” asked Luther as I pulled myself out of the com-pod. “Have you finally accepted that you’ll be the last person they let off the ship when we get there?”
I went past him without saying a word. I didn’t even tell him to go take an EVA without a suit. Not worth the breath.
My bunk seemed a million miles away. Funny how pain distorts everything, even distance. Back on the Lucky Eight I’d shared a room with Luther, but on the ship I had a sleeping pod all to myself. Funny how something that small could feel huge and lonely.
“Tristan,” called a voice and I turned to see Sophie emerging from her bunk. She hadn’t put her hair in a ponytail and it drifted around her face like mist. Or like she was a mermaid floating in the water. I almost ignored her, too, but she pulled herself up and over to intercept me. She looked at my face and there was immediate concern in her eyes. “What’s wrong, cher?”
“Nothing’s wrong,” I said, but she could see the lie through the cracks in my voice.
“What happened?”
Oh man, I really did not want to talk about this with anyone. Not until I figured out what was going on with that video from Izzy. I wanted to find something to dismantle and rebuild. I wanted to find something broken that I could fix.
Sophie grabbed a handhold to anchor herself and touched my cheek with her other hand. She looked past me, to the com-pods, and nodded. “Is it Iseult?”
“Izzy,” I growled. “Her name’s Izzy.”
Sophie nodded. She took a deep breath and sighed. Then she pulled me to her, wrapping one arm around me while still holding on to the wall.
“Tell me,” she said.
I didn’t want to. I refused. It was too much and too private.
I told her anyway.