“She didn’t write down our secrets,” Leda repeated hesitantly. “You’re right. There’s nothing here that can incriminate us.”

“We’re safe, Leda. We’re actually safe.”

She tilted her head thoughtfully. Her newly short hair curled around her ears, curls that Watt used to wrap his hands in, when he would tip Leda’s head back to kiss her. Then, to Watt’s surprise, she began to laugh—a joyful, relieved laugh, deeper and heartier than you would expect, given how small she was. Watt missed that laugh.

He would have fallen in love with her right then, all over again, if he didn’t already love her with every atom of his being.

“We really are safe,” she said wonderingly.

Something in Leda’s voice gave him pause. She was different, Watt thought, trying to pinpoint what exactly had changed. Then he realized—her force field was down.

All this time, Leda had been holding herself at arm’s length, at a stiff and safe distance from the world, and most of all from him. But now her shield was lowered, her electric fence switched off, every last barrier between the two of them zapped into oblivion. He felt as if he was looking at Leda for the first time in months.

Watt held his breath as she leaned in to kiss him.

The kiss was like a jolt of nitrogen, of electricity, dancing down every last nerve ending in his body. Her hands closed over his shoulders, slipping under the edges of his sweater, and where her bare skin touched his it felt somehow significant, like the imprint of her hand would be forever tattooed there. Leda’s pulse was as erratic as his.

It astonished Watt how utterly right everything suddenly felt. Why had he wasted all those months spinning madly like a top, trying so desperately to forget Leda, when just touching her made the world seem so simple?

When she finally pulled away, Watt felt dazed. “I thought . . .”

“I changed my mind. Girls do that sometimes, you know.” Leda smiled softly and leaned in to kiss him again.

RYLIN

“INBOX,” RYLIN MUTTERED yet again as she headed warily toward the monorail stop. Her contacts obediently pulled up her messages, but as before, there was nothing new from Hiral.

It was Thursday night, when Hiral would normally have been at work. Except that he had sent a cryptic message that afternoon, asking if Rylin could come meet him here.

She couldn’t shake the sense that there had been something strange about Hiral’s mood this past week. He’d been dodging her messages, had barely even looked her in the eye when she brought his favorite muffins over one morning before school. Whatever was on his mind, he clearly didn’t want to share it with her.

Though she wasn’t exactly sharing everything with him right now, either.

She turned onto the platform and saw him there, wearing a simple gray sweatshirt and jeans, a backpack slung carelessly over one shoulder. Maybe he’d packed a picnic, planned some kind of surprise excursion to the outer boroughs, Rylin tried to tell herself. She didn’t quite believe it.

“Hey, you.” She rose up to kiss him.

“Thanks for coming,” Hiral said gruffly and shoved his hands in his pockets. “I’m glad you made it.”

“Of course I made it,” she replied, but Hiral didn’t return her smile.

Rylin’s eyes flicked up to the departures board, and a new dread twisted in her stomach. This monorail only went to the airport. “Hiral,” she said slowly, “what’s going on?”

“I’m leaving.” He seemed to be speaking in as few words as possible, as if each syllable caused him unthinkable pain.

“Leaving? What are you talking about?”

“I wasn’t going to tell you, except I had to say good-bye.”

“Good-bye?” Rylin stumbled back a step, toward a vending machine illuminated with a coffee icon. The bitter scent of coffee grounds emanated from its surface. Her sense of foreboding had stretched itself into something much greater, something Rylin knew she wouldn’t be able to fix.

“I’m leaving New York for good. I took a job on Undina, harvesting algae. My flight leaves in two hours,” Hiral said quietly.

“What the hell?” Rylin cried out, her throat raw. “You decided to leave, with no input from me? We aren’t even going to discuss this?”

Hiral frowned in confusion. “We did discuss it, and you made it clear that you didn’t want to leave.”

“That was barely a conversation!” This couldn’t be happening. Was Hiral, the boy she’d known her entire life, really turning his back on everything?

“I’m sorry I didn’t warn you, but I thought this was the right thing to do.”

The monorail pulled up in a sudden and violent rush of air, lifting Rylin’s ponytail from the back of her neck. Hiral turned to watch its arrival, his eyes following its progress along the track, before turning back to her.

“So you’re giving up,” Rylin said slowly. “You didn’t even give me a chance to fight for us.”

“Rylin,” he replied, “do you even want to fight for us?”

“Of course I do!”

The doors opened and people poured out of the monorail, flooding past Rylin and Hiral toward wherever they were headed. Rylin barely registered them, even when they bumped right into her. Her eyes were locked on Hiral’s.