The world shifts, tilts, sometimes collapses. But sometimes, it bends toward you, and everything feels right.

* * *

By the time I return home that night, our apartment’s already filled with packing boxes. Daniel is walking around in a restless state, double-checking our things and making sure everything is put away.

When he sees me, he straightens and tries to hide his anxiety. “Are you ready to go back tomorrow?” he asks me instead.

I walk over to our couch and plop down on it one last time. “Ready enough,” I reply as he comes over to join me.

Immediately, he smiles.

“What?” I say.

“Something really good happened to you,” he says, studying my face. “It’s Pressa, yeah?”

I laugh a little. How good it feels to have a brother who can read my emotions again, who knows me. I nod. “Pressa’s going to come to the Republic too. She’s figuring out all the logistics for herself now.”

Daniel grins at that and nudges my shoulder. “Good,” he says. “I always thought she was meant for more than the Undercity. Glad you’ll have each other.”

My eyes settle on a small, square box in one of his pockets. “What’s that?” I ask.

He hesitates, and his smile wavers. He leans his head against the back of the couch and closes his eyes. “It’s nothing. I don’t know.”

Now it’s my turn to read his mind. It’s that look he gets only when he thinks about June. I wonder if he has an entire life laid out in front of him, if he sees glimmers of her at his side, of him holding her hand. I wonder if he’s afraid of that vision of a life, how easily it could shift depending on the directions that the present will shift him. On how the next few weeks will go.

“Daniel,” I say gently, so that he turns back to me. “She’s nuts about you. And you’ve been obsessed with her since as far back as I can remember. It’s obvious to everyone.”

He looks down at his hands. They fidget nervously, the fingers weaving together and then pulling apart. Even now, he can’t seem to bring himself to shake off his past, the feeling that maybe he was never meant to be with someone as high-ranking as June.

I wonder if we’ll ever fully escape our history. But every step forward takes us to a better place.

“If you need help with anything related to June,” I add, “you know you have a brother that you can count on.” I shrug a little. “Just in case you had something specific in mind.”

He looks at me, then smiles a little. There’s hope in his gaze—but even better than that, there’s trust. We may always struggle with our pasts, but we can rest assured that we’ll always have someone else who can pull us forward. In this moment, at least, the fear of going to bed and confronting my nightmares again seems distant.

“Glad you said it,” he finally answers. “I think I will need your help.”

DANIEL

There was a time when my wanted poster was scattered on the JumboTrons all over Los Angeles. It’s still strange to be in the Republic without seeing those ads, to know that I’m not walking down the streets as a criminal anymore. Hell, it’s strange to walk down these streets and know that I’m not going to sleep huddled against an alley wall, that I’m not constantly searching for my next meal.

Eden and I have been back in the Republic for a little over two weeks. Behind us and across the oceans, Antarctica has begun the first experimental phase of revising its Level system. Although the President doesn’t want to admit it, they’ve incorporated a lot of the changes that Eden had originally put in. Ways for people in the Undercity to redeem themselves, Level exemptions for things like medicine and food and shelter. More freedom and less punishment for what you can say and express.

They’re small steps, of course, just like the Republic’s progress. All around the world, everyone’s just gradually trying to move forward.

The streets are still slick tonight from a gentle rain earlier in the afternoon, and the air smells crisp and clean, the breeze cooling my cheeks. I take my time strolling toward the complex where June lives, counting out steps of my own. My fingers brush against a small box tucked in one of my pockets. I haven’t opened it since I packed it away. I’m too afraid to.

I reach the main entrance of her complex and exchange a familiar nod with the security guard. June and I have had several dates since I arrived. We’ve caught up over quiet dinners in the corners of restaurants and drinks in the dim recesses of her living room, our faces turned out toward the lights of the city. I’ve talked to her every day. She’s told me about how Anden is securing funding for the Republic’s rebuilding. I’ve told her about how quickly Eden has adapted to his internship and life back in the Republic.

I go over everything I want to say again in my head. Maybe she’ll tell me that I’m rushing things too much. The thought sends a shiver of uncertainty through me as I head up the elevator to her floor. June is a practical person, after all. How long has it been since we were reunited, anyway? Only several months, with a lot of chaos in between.

* * *

I reach her door. There, I press her doorbell and then linger for a moment, trying to stop my fidgeting.

I’m still debating with myself when the door swings open to reveal June.

The sight of her cuts through the train of nervous questions engulfing my thoughts. Her hair is down to her shoulders tonight, dark and wavy, and she has pinned one side with a delicate floral pin. She’s wearing a pale dress that shimmers slightly in the light. Seeing her in full military gear is always breathtaking, but it’s when she’s like this—off duty, her guard down and smile on, her eyes relaxed—that I find myself barely able to handle how stunning she is. She looks so gorgeous in this moment that I just end up staring at her in disbelief.

She laughs at me, then takes a step toward me and kisses me once. “Good evening,” she says, raising an eyebrow at me. “Nice to see you too.”

Does she suspect anything? I smile at her, trying to stay casual, then offer her my arm. “Just so you know,” I say as we start heading back down the hall, “I wasn’t completely overwhelmed at how beautiful you look. That would be stupid.”

“Right.” She tilts her head at me. “Then why were you staring off into space?”

“You had a spider in your hair.”

She laughs again, and I realize that I’ll never get enough of the sound. “Thanks for not telling me,” she says.

We banter as we head out of her complex and into the freshly washed night. I guide her around the puddles still on the sidewalk and watch as the light dances against her hair. Our conversations come more easily now, and somehow, I almost feel like we’ve gone back in time to when we’d first met.

“You said you found a new café that opened near the train station?” she asks curiously as I lead her down the street. “How come I’ve never heard of this place?”

I smile a little. “Eden told me about it. I think they just opened their doors today, and haven’t really publicized it. He said it looks perfect for a quiet night.”

June just frowns and concentrates harder on figuring it out. “I usually know about all the openings in this area. Their permits need to go through a strict check, and if they were able to get it approved, I would have heard and sent someone to inspect it.”