“Perhaps,” she said, “we can find a way back into each other’s lives. Perhaps we can be friends again.”

Friends. It would be a start, at least.

I pulled back my desire to kiss her, the way I wanted to obsess over every detail of her—the darkness of her eyes, the curve of her lips, the thick length of her hair that I remembered running my fingers through. I pulled it all back and let it close, safeguarding those emotions for another time.

“Friends again,” I said, nodding in agreement.

She smiled at me, genuinely smiled, and it brightened her face so much that I wanted to remember it forever. I stretched out a hand to her. She took it. We shook once before pulling each other into a farewell embrace.

“Travel safe tomorrow,” she murmured to me.

I let her go reluctantly. “Tell me if you’re ever in Ross City,” I replied.

And I stepped away from her. I let her go this time. I turned my back and forced myself to walk away. It was our first night together after ten years apart. This was as large a step as we could possibly take. Friends again.

Maybe we could find our way back to that friendship space. Then, and only then, could we have a chance for more.

It would be another month before we saw each other again.

* * *

The delirious memory came into focus and then faded away, focused and faded again, ceaseless and repetitive. I don’t know how long it’s been. Days? If they kept withholding water from me, I would die down here. Did June get my message? I don’t know. My head lolls to one side as I dream of water, of rainstorms and summer pools and rivers.

Your past is always a part of you, June had said to me during our last conversation in her apartment. Just as it is a part of me.

I let her words play over and over in my thoughts. I think of how right it’d felt to be beside her. I think of her dark, steady eyes, her beautiful face. It clears my mind, forces me to think.

I’d spent ten years pushing that old part of me away, carefully boxing up every piece of it, every nightmare and horrible memory and moment of grief and hate and rage, had started here in Ross City as if we’d always been here. That I’d only ever been Daniel.

But June, as always, is right. Boxing that past away hasn’t stopped it from creeping into my mind. And if I’m going to get out of here alive, if I’m going to get Eden out of this and pull him through his trauma, if I’m ever going to see June again, I need to remember that I’m still the boy from the streets. The boy who could raise hell.

That I’m Day.

EDEN

“I know you’re hungry.”

I glare at Hann. I’m standing at the door to his Undercity estate’s dining room, with two of his guards behind me. He’s sitting at the opposite end of a round table, observing me with his hands tucked casually into his pockets.

I’d spent most of the afternoon at the construction site, helping them integrate my drone’s engine into their own. The structure they’re working with glowed a pulsing blue the entire time, casting its light against my skin. I can still see the rhythm of its color whenever I close my eyes.

The entire time, Hann had looked impressed with what I’d done.

Now he frowns at me as I stand swaying in the doorway. “Are you refusing to sit down because you’re worried about your brother?”

“I mean, it’s not like I’ve forgotten about him or anything,” I reply, a little too sharply. “I’ve helped you as much as you wanted me to.”

The man pauses to cough his heaving, sickly cough. Then he sighs and glances at the guards behind me. “Leave him here.”

The two guards exchange an uncertain look with each other, but it’s only for the briefest moment. Then they’re bowing their heads in unison to their boss and stepping back. I hear the door close behind me, sealing me in with my kidnapper. The guards are probably standing watch on the other side now. I hadn’t heard any footsteps echoing away from us.

Hann motions for me to take a seat at the table. “You’ll do your brother no good by just standing there. Sit down, please. Eat something. You’re going to need your strength, no matter what you do.”

He acts like this is a completely normal day for him. How large is this underground estate? I try to remember the distance that I’d walked today, then guess at how much more space there might be down here. What if he’s not keeping Daniel here at all, but at some other location?

When I still don’t move, he gestures again toward the seat.

Behind me comes a faint knock on the door. I step aside as it swings open, this time letting in a cook bearing two silver trays. She hurries past me to the table, places the trays at each of our place settings, and then bows to Hann like all the others. She doesn’t even bother looking at me as she steps out of the room.

Whatever the food is, it smells delicious. My stomach rumbles in spite of itself. I hesitate a while longer. Then I finally walk over to the table and slowly lower myself into the second chair.

Hann lifts the cover off of his own tray. “I’ve been told you’re a vegetarian,” Hann says. “Your dish has been adjusted to your tastes.”

His words send a chill through me. How does he know that?

“Thanks,” I mutter, the word thick with sarcasm.

“I can tell you’re no stranger to tense situations,” he says. “I’m guessing that’s from your days back in the Republic.”

I watch him as he lifts a forkful of steaming fish to his lips. “I had my share of moments,” I finally reply.

He looks up briefly at me from his meal. “I can respect that. News about what was happening in the Republic back then was sparse, but I followed it. It was a worthy cause, what you and your brother fought for.”

I narrow my eyes at him. He’s baiting me, praising my brother while he keeps him locked up in some other room. “What does someone like you know about what we went through?” I say.

“Your family survived based on the whim of your government. Isn’t that true? Your brother was someone like me. An underdog. A rebel. A wanted criminal. I understand, more than you know, what it means to be under the authority’s thumb.”

“Except my brother fought for the people,” I reply. “And as far as I know, you sound like you take advantage of those down here in the Undercity.”

He doesn’t look offended by my words. Instead, he bows his head and smiles grimly. “I am one of those down here in the Undercity,” he replies. “What happens down here has directly affected me all of my life.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t think I’ve been very fair to you,” he says. “You are, understandably, worried about your brother. And while you’ve told me many things about yourself, you still don’t know much about me. So I’m going to make a deal with you.”

“What kind of deal?” I mutter.

He puts his fork down and laces his fingers together, then gives me a steady look. “I’m going to let your brother go,” he says. “If you finish helping me install your engine on our machine.”

I wasn’t expecting him to say that. “You’re what?” I blurt out.