I didn't sleep that night, Aldous's letter and Elena's preserved fear sitting together on the small writing desk in our chambers like twin proof that everything I'd built my understanding of myself upon had been, from the very beginning, incomplete.
Darius found me still awake near dawn, staring at the letter without actually reading it again, having memorized its contents thoroughly enough that rereading felt unnecessary.
"You should rest," he said, settling beside me, though nothing in his voice suggested he expected me to actually follow the advice.
