“Sorry,” Emma said, as the car righted itself. They’d been driving around for several hours as Sterling hurtled all over the city, and her hands were starting to ache from gripping the wheel.

Cristina sighed. “Are you going to tell me what’s bothering you?”

Emma shifted. She was wearing her gear jacket, and it was hot in the car. She felt as if all her skin was itching. “I’m really, really sorry, Tina,” she said. “I didn’t think—I shouldn’t have asked you to cover up for me when I went to the convergence. It wasn’t fair.”

Cristina was silent for a moment. “I would have done it,” she said. “If you’d told me what it was about.”

Emma’s throat felt tight. “I’m not used to trusting people. But I should have trusted you. When you leave, I don’t know what I’m going to do. I’m going to miss you so much.”

Cristina smiled at her. “Come to the D.F.,” she said. “See how we do things there. You can take your travel year in my city.” She paused. “I forgive you, by the way.”

A small weight lifted from Emma’s chest. “I’d love to go to Mexico,” she said. “And Julian would—”

She broke off. Of course most people with parabatai accompanied them on their travel year. But the thought of Julian hurt, a sharp quick pain like a needle stick.

“Are you going to tell me what’s bothering you?” Cristina asked.

“No,” Emma said.

“Fine. Then turn left onto Entrada,” Cristina said.

“It’s like having supernatural GPS,” Emma observed. She could see Cristina scowling at the map across her knees in the passenger seat.

“We head toward Santa Monica,” Cristina said, tracing a finger along the map. “Go down Seventh.”

“Sterling’s an idiot,” Emma said. “He knows someone’s trying to kill him. He shouldn’t be wandering around the city.”

“He probably thinks his own house isn’t that safe,” Cristina pointed out reasonably. “I mean, I ambushed him there.”

“Right,” Emma said. She couldn’t stop worrying a rip in the knee of her gear. The memory of Julian on the beach, the things he had said to her, pressed against the backs of her eyes. She let the thoughts pass through her. When it came time, she’d have to let them all go and concentrate on the fight.

“And, of course, there are the enormous bunny rabbits,” Cristina said.

“What?” Emma snapped back to the present.

“I’ve been talking at you for the last three minutes! Where is your mind, Emma?”

“I slept with Julian,” Emma said.

Cristina shrieked. Then she clapped her hands over her mouth and stared at Emma as if Emma had just announced there was a grenade strapped to the roof of the car and about to explode.

“Did you hear what I said?” Emma asked.

“Yes,” Cristina said, taking her hands away from her mouth. “You slept with Julian Blackthorn.”

Emma’s breath whooshed out of her in a rush. There was something about hearing it said back to her that made her feel as if she’d been gut punched.

“I thought you weren’t going to tell me what was wrong!” Cristina said.

“I changed my mind.”

“Why?” They were whipping around corners lined with palm trees, stucco houses set back from the streets. Emma knew she was driving too fast; she didn’t care.

“I mean—I was in the ocean, and he pulled me out, and things got out of hand—”

“No,” Cristina said. “Not why did you do it. Why did you change your mind about telling me?”

“Because I’m a horrible liar,” Emma said. “You would have guessed.”

“Maybe. Maybe not.” Cristina took a deep breath. “I suppose I should ask the real question. Do you love him?”

Emma didn’t say anything. She kept her eyes on the broken yellow line in the middle of the road. The sun was a fiery orange ball lowering in the west.

Cristina exhaled slowly. “You do love him.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“It’s all over your face,” Cristina said. “I know what that looks like.” She sounded sad.

“Don’t pity me, Tina,” Emma said. “Please don’t.”

“I’m just frightened for you. The Law is very clear, and the punishments are so severe.”

“Well, it doesn’t matter,” said Emma, her voice tinged with bitterness. “He doesn’t love me. And being unrequitedly in love with your parabatai isn’t illegal, so don’t worry.”

“He what?” Cristina said, sounding shocked.

“He doesn’t love me,” said Emma. “He was very clear about that.”

Cristina opened her mouth, and then closed it again.

“I guess it’s flattering that you’re surprised,” Emma said.

“I don’t know what to say.” Cristina put her hand over her heart. “There are the things you would normally say in this situation. If it was anyone else but Julian I’d be telling you how lucky he was to have someone as brave and smart as you are in love with him. I would be scheming with you about how we could make such a silly boy realize such an obvious thing. But it is Julian, and it is illegal, and you must not do anything more, Emma. Promise me.”