The answer I still refuse

Ellis is alive. That changes the shape of everything, even if I cannot say what the shape is yet. The men who built this lie needed bodies to make silence look final. I know how easy it is to turn grief into a useful instruction. I do not want them to have done that with him.

My ribs ache every time I breathe properly, which feels almost funny. I can cover pain until someone asks a direct question. I cannot cover the other thing: the part of me that heard those names again and immediately started planning a rescue before asking whether rescue was what anyone had chosen. Being needed has always made danger feel cleaner than it is.

The worst thought is selfish. If Ben is alive, then I was not the only one lied to, and maybe I am not the only one carrying responsibility. There is relief in that. I hate the relief. I wanted to be exceptional in my suspicion, even when exceptional means alone.

Dain warned me. I refused him because refusal felt like proof. That is a rotten reason to distrust someone. I can admit the warning existed now without pretending wisdom came with it.

Joonie Bell and Darcy Pike are beyond the point. I keep placing them on the road in my head, then correcting the scene because fear enjoys filling in the blanks. I want to bring everyone back. I want to come home with more than another secret. I do not trust either wish tonight.