My thoughts return to her life, and how she has learned to steady it. I clear my throat awkwardly and stare down at my hands. “Hey,” I say quietly. “Can I ask … what made you and Anden decide to end things?”

June’s quiet, and for a moment I think I’ve overstepped. But then a faraway look crosses her face. “I don’t know how it gradually fell apart,” she finally replies. “But there was one early morning that changed everything. I remember it because the light coming in through the window was so beautiful, the purest light I’d ever seen, just painting a golden stripe against my arm.” She smiles a little at that. “I got up, walked to the window, and admired the most stunning dawn I’d seen in a while. And you know what? All I could think about was that I didn’t want to share that moment with him, because I didn’t think we would be admiring the same thing. And then I wondered whether that was strange, to not want the person I loved to be beside me.” She looks down. “I think both of us already knew, though. I moved out pretty soon after that.”

I don’t really know what to say. All I can think about is that I would’ve given anything to share a moment like that with her. But I don’t tell her that. “I’m sorry it didn’t work out,” I finally answer.

She gives me a wry smile. “Hopefully not too sorry, though.”

Her words send a ribbon of wild hope through my veins. I laugh in embarrassment, afraid to think about the possibilities between us. “Okay, fine—not that sorry. But I’m glad you’re both still friends. You’re the one who pushes him forward, anyway. He’ll always take your advice. You can see it in the way he’s always turned toward you, waiting for your opinion.”

“Yeah, well,” she replies, “my advice isn’t worth much if we can’t act on any of it. He’s doing his best.” We’re quiet for a few seconds. “Even after everything we’ve gone through,” she adds, “after all the war we’ve both seen, there are still so many things wrong. The work never really ends, does it? It just shifts to something else.”

My gaze wanders to the glow of the city against her skin, to the soft waves in her hair, to her dark eyes. “Maybe,” I say softly. “But there are constants to anchor ourselves to.” I hesitate, almost too afraid to say it. “And you are mine.”

We’re very close now. June blushes, and my heartbeat quickens. I can’t remember whether I felt this exact way when we were young, whether moments like this felt like an electric current humming beside me. I can’t imagine reacting any other way to her.

“Daniel,” she whispers. “I…”

I hold my breath, wondering what she might say. Terrified to guess.

This is the moment when I’m going to close the distance between us again. When I’m going to kiss her, when she’s going to pull me with her to her room.

But then I sense a slight hesitation from June. She holds back, afraid, pulling the string between us so taut that I can feel it ready to snap.

And I freeze. I clear my throat. I step away.

The air between us seems to sigh in disappointment. All I can hear is the conversation we had that night when I saw her at the train station, about everything that had happened to us in the past.

Are we ready? Is she?

I don’t know if this can ever last. I don’t know if I am the catalyst for all that might unravel in her life, the one who might end the normalcy she’s earned for herself. I don’t know if we are meant to be.

Maybe she’s thinking the same.

June speaks first. “I have to check on the Elector,” she says. “He must be heading back from the gala soon.”

I nod, looking down. “Of course,” I reply. “I better get back too, to do the same with Eden.”

The electric tension still hovers in the air, but there is too much space between us now. So I give her a smile and a bow, then turn around and head out of her apartment.

EDEN

That night, as I head into the Komodo Club with Pressa, my thoughts still linger on the replay of my memories at the AIS headquarters. Pressa tugs on my hand, leading me deeper into the chaotic space. But even the flashing lights and pounding music can’t quite drown out my thoughts.

Maybe Daniel’s right. It’s possible that someone like Dominic Hann would cut deals like mine with lots of people. Maybe if I stay away from the Undercity, he’ll shrug off our encounter and just be content with the rounds I’d won him during the drone race.

The AIS director’s words echo in my mind. You are the closest thing we have to a lead.

I might be their best chance at capturing Dominic Hann. Daniel himself has been hunting the man for months. If I stay away from the entire situation, my brother will keep heading into the Undercity. He’ll keep putting himself in danger until he gets him. Didn’t he go deep into the same drone race pit that I was in? How many more situations like that before his luck runs out? Will there be a day when he doesn’t come home?

“Eden!”

Pressa’s voice cuts through the music and my thoughts. I blink and look down at her. She’s holding a drink out at me, and her lips are pursed in concern. “Are you sure you want to be here?” she says. “We don’t have to be at the club. Want to head to a diner instead?”

I shake my head and take the drink from her. “No, I’m fine,” I shout back. “Let’s stay.” I take her hand in mine and lead her closer to the stage.

If we weren’t hooked up to the Level system, there’d be no one onstage. But with our systems running, we can see virtual performers dancing up there, fantasies of people with wings hovering in midair, mermaids sitting on giant spinning hoops overhead, all surrounded by a ceiling of virtual ivy and swirling clouds. It’s a mesmerizing scene.

I force myself to stare at it all until it seems to consume me. Everyone around me looks dressed up in some kind of virtual outfit. They’re colorful, even grotesque, and I’m grateful for the distraction as I join Pressa in a dance to a feverish song.

Here, she always lets herself go. Now she flashes a smile at me as she twirls. “We’re no longer in Ross City,” she exclaims. “We’re somewhere far away. I’m leaving the Undercity behind!”

I smile at her as she moves to the beat of the music, trying to sink into the fantasy with her. As we dance, she wraps her arms around my neck and I put my hands at her waist, pressing her close to me and feeling the thud of the music rush through us.

She tilts her head at me so that her bobbed hair falls in a sheet against her chin. “You’re looking for something,” she says, pulling me close enough to shout in my ear. “I can tell. What’s on your mind?”

I haven’t told her yet about my talk with the AIS. Instead, I just shake my head. “The race,” I reply, my words almost lost over the beat. “And who was sponsoring it.”

I half expect her to laugh it off and tell me not to worry so much. But instead, Pressa nods, a thoughtful frown on her face. “Keep this identity on whenever you leave the Sky Floors,” she finally tells me. She nods to the fake name and Level hovering over my head. “I’ve crossed paths with men like that before. They don’t play around, but I don’t think you’ve done enough to warrant them going after you. It might not be worth their while.”