AVERY HURRIED, BREATHLESS, toward the pulsing star in her field of vision that was leading her to Atlas. Thank god he’d never turned off location sharing, even after everything they’d said to each other. She made her way through crowds draped all in black and white; the only spots of color their paintsticked faces, a discordant blur against the darkness. Avery pushed past all of it, heading toward that pulsing light as if it were her own personal North Star leading her home.
She turned a corner and saw with relief that yes, he was right there, beneath the shining yellow star inscribed on her contacts. He was frowning slightly, deep in conversation with their father and a group of investors. Avery reached up to smooth her hair, adjust the fine lace at her neckline, before venturing over.
“Atlas. I need to talk to you.” She saw her dad flinch a little at the request, but it didn’t matter. None of it mattered, as long as she and Atlas had each other.
His eyes swept toward her for a moment, then away. “We’re kind of busy right now.”
The dismissal hurt, but she let it go. “Please.”
Atlas wavered for a moment, then gave some excuse to the group and followed her a distance away. “What’s going on?” he hissed, but she didn’t answer, just led him determinedly downward, to lower and still lower terraces, until they were at a gateway marked NO ACCESS. She pushed it open and dragged Atlas onto the small, grim, dingy balcony behind it, crowded with machinery and jutting directly over the canal. The rush of water beneath them was loud in her ears.
“Think we’re far enough yet?” Atlas demanded sarcastically.
She hated how hostile he sounded—not like Atlas at all, but some stranger inhabiting his body. Ignoring the question, Avery grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him roughly down to kiss him.
He was still her Atlas, she saw with relief: same mouth, same hands, same shoulders as ever. She slid her hands over those shoulders to twine up in his hair, at the back of his neck where it curled, just a little. I love you so much, and I’m sorry.
Atlas pulled away, shaking his head. “This isn’t fair,” he said, his voice only a little shaky. “You can’t be furious with me for weeks and then just decide to kiss me here, at the most crowded party of our lives.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“What’s going on with you, Avery? What happened to prompt … this?” Atlas made an impatient gesture, taking in her mutilated dress, her tangled hair. The kiss.
She told herself not to panic that he’d called her Avery and not Aves. “There’s something you need to know about Calliope. She’s not what she seems.” That sounded a bit theatrical, so she tried again. “She’s a fraud, Atlas—she’s been lying to you this whole time, playing you. She doesn’t even like you.”
“What are you talking about?”
“She and her mom are …” She fumbled for the right word. Con artists sounded like something out of a bad holo. “Operators. They use people for their money, then move on to a new place, with a new identity.”
Carefully, haltingly, Avery explained the whole thing. She told Atlas about Calliope’s various aliases, her mom’s arrest record; she sent him the pics that Leda had found, of all their many identities. Through it all he just nodded silently, scarcely blinking.
“Shit,” Atlas muttered when she finally fell silent. He shook his head in disbelief, his brown eyes glazed over.
“I know. I’m so sorry.” She wasn’t really, though. She wanted Calliope gone, and Atlas back, and the world restored to its rightful order.
“How did you learn all this?”
Avery reached for his hand, lacing his fingers in hers. “I just did. I can’t explain, but I promise it’s all true.”
A murmured cry rose up from the crowds above them as another round of fireworks began to launch. Avery didn’t glance away from Atlas’s face. He was very quiet, thinking everything over. He seemed lost in a world of his own making.
“Don’t worry,” she said softly, a little concerned by his silence. “I already told her to leave. And if she doesn’t, we’ll make her. We can do anything, together.”
Atlas withdrew his hand from hers in a sudden, jerky motion. “We aren’t going to do anything. I’ll handle this on my own.”
“Atlas—”
“Please don’t. This is hard enough already.” He was looking determinedly at the water, which unnerved her, because it meant he couldn’t even bear to look her in the eyes. Fireworks erupted in great black-and-white bursts overhead, casting otherworldly shadows that danced across his face.
“I’m a little stunned, to be honest. And pissed off. Not that anything has happened between me and Calliope,” Atlas added, which made Avery’s heart leap eagerly. “But I’m still exhausted,” he went on, his words heavy. “I need to get away from this—from all of it.”
“Exactly. We can get away together, you and me, like we planned!” Avery exclaimed. Now that Leda was back on her side, and wanted to help her, there was nothing keeping them apart anymore.
But Atlas shook his head. “We were right to end things when we did. We tried, but no matter how hard we try, we haven’t been able to make it work.” He gave Avery a look that terrified her. “Do you know what Dad named the hotel in the dark Tower?”
“Fanaa.” A sudden panic was creeping over her skin.
“It means destroying yourself for the one you love.” Atlas spoke urgently. “That’s us, Avery. Don’t you see? We’re literally destroying each other. It’s too complicated, and there are too many people who can be hurt. Especially you and me.”
“So you don’t love me anymore.” That was the only explanation that made sense. How could he love her and not want to be with her?
“Of course I love you,” Atlas insisted. “I’ll always love you. But love isn’t necessarily enough. You can’t build a life on it.”
“Yes, you can!” Avery cried out, her voice pitching wildly.
“I’m just trying to be realistic,” Atlas said, and the reasonable way he spoke made her want to shake his shoulders and scream. “What do you think we’re actually going to do, go live on that remote island, just the two of us?”
“Yes, exactly!”
“And what happens when you’re sick of it—when walking around that small island and reading books and eating fish isn’t enough for you anymore?” he asked quietly.
“I’ll have you. And you’ll be enough.”
“I don’t know if I am.” Atlas’s voice cracked, but she pretended not to hear it. “Honestly, I’m scared. I’m scared of losing you. But I’m even more scared of forcing you down a path you don’t want to be on.”
“You’re not forcing me to do anything!” Avery protested, but it was as if he hadn’t heard.
“You’re incredible, Aves,” Atlas said softly. “You’re far too intelligent and talented, too remarkable, to spend your life shut away from the entire world. You belong in the world, laughing and traveling, having friends. You deserve to see everything the world has to offer, and I can’t give you any of that.”
“You and I can have all those things. We’ll make friends, and travel,” Avery started to say, but he was shaking his head.
“And be looking over our shoulder every moment in case someone recognized us, in constant fear of being caught? No, Vermont showed me that’s pretty much impossible.”
Avery’s voice was almost a whisper. “I don’t care about any of that. I would trade it all to be with you.”
Atlas surprised her by taking her hands, clasping them together and wrapping his own hands tight around them. “I know you mean that when you say it now. But I’m terrified of the moment in five years when you turn to me and regret the choice you made. By then it might be too late for you to go back.”
Atlas’s breath was ragged. He looked close to tears. Instinctively, Avery knew that she couldn’t let him cry in front of her, for his sake. She took a step back, her own eyes brimming with grief, and waited.
“Don’t you see? It can’t ever work for us. I’m just saving us heartache, down the road,” Atlas said at last.
Here it is, Avery thought with dreadful certainty. This was really and truly the end.
She couldn’t take it anymore—she flung herself into Atlas’s arms and kissed him, over and over, and this time Atlas returned the kisses, returned them wildly and passionately, and it made Avery’s heart break because she knew deep down that he was kissing her good-bye. She clung tighter to him, pressing her body the whole length of his, trying to hold him so close that he could never leave, as if she might anchor him here through sheer force of will. She wished she could snatch each kiss from the air and tuck it away somewhere safe, because each kiss was one kiss closer to the final kiss of all.
When they finally pulled apart, neither of them spoke. The river rushed on below them. The sounds of the party emanated down as if from another world.
“Okay then,” she said at last, her voice small, because it seemed like one of them should say something.
“Okay then,” Atlas repeated.
Tears gathered in Avery’s eyes, but she swallowed them back. She needed to be strong right now, for Atlas’s sake. So she held back the tears and nodded shakily, even though it cost her more than Atlas would ever know; even though it felt like someone was holding a razor and inflicting a million small cuts all over her skin.
Atlas started to turn away, but paused as if thinking better of it, and reached out to touch Avery one last time. He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, traced the line of her jaw, brushed a finger lightly over her lower lip. As if he were blind, and trying to recognize her through nothing but his fingertips.
Avery closed her eyes. She concentrated on memorizing his touch, wanting to stop time and stop the world and hold on to this moment forever, because as long as her eyes were closed, she could believe that Atlas was still here. Still hers.
“I’m sorry, Aves, but I promise it’s better this way,” he said, and then he was gone.
Avery stood there awhile, her eyes firmly shut, just herself and her secrets and her heartbreak alone in the dark.