Day Seven Hundred and One

He wasn't dead.

He wasn't, he couldn't be.

This was Avin, so small but full of life, the living embodiment of happiness and ever-present joy, all wrapped up into an oversized shirt and a mischievous smile. Staring down at him on the table, lying with his arms still by his side and his head tilted back, the words kept running themselves ragged around her mind until she was dizzy.

He wasn't dead. He couldn't be.

"We need to bury him." Alby said after a while, his voice so cracked and broken she barely recognised it. He was sitting in a wooden chair too small for his muscular frame, face stained with tears that he hadn't bothered to wipe away, hands clasped together at his lips as if in prayer. He was staring at Avin's body, but his dark eyes were glassy in a way that told her he wasn't really seeing him.

"No." Ada said just as brokenly. Why would they bury him? He wasn't dead. She ran her thumb over the back of Avin's small hand – it was cold. Perhaps she should lend him her gloves. She wasn't sure where they were.

Minho ran a hand down his face, stepping away from the door. "Ada-"

"No."

The med hut was so still, despite the four people and two prone figures packed into it. Something heavy hung in the air, grief so thick it choked her, a sense of finality that she just didn't know what to do with. Tears blurred her eyes, but she couldn't move to wipe them away. Her entire body felt as if it were suspended in water.

Jeff sniffled as he tended to Nick, unconscious on the other hospital bed, smoothing down the bandage on the side of his torso, wincing at the state of the builder's body. Alby and her had taken one look at him and knew he'd been stung. Thick black veins, ropey and sore, protruded from thin skin. Small sores opened up on his body, oozing and sore. In sleep, the anger was gone from his face, his expression open and peaceful. He looked every bit like the Nick he had always been, just distorted and sick.

But they would fix him. They would.

It wouldn't be like George. Not again.

A knock at the door burst the quiet bubble. It creaked open, the sound suddenly obnoxiously loud. Had it always been that loud? She couldn't remember.

Newt appeared in the doorway, looking more exhausted than she had seen him in a long time. His eyes were bloodshot, rimmed with red, face pale and gaunt, shoulders slumped with grief. He was favouring his good leg, his bad one obviously bothering him.

His eyes swept over the room, pausing on where Avin's body lay. He looked away quickly, throat bobbing. "Everyone's in the council hall." He said curtly, accented voice thick with emotion. "They're waiting for you."

Ada didn't want to go. Not when she knew what they would be discussing. She didn't want to talk about what to do with Nick, not when he was lying there so blissfully unaware of what was happening around him. Not when Avin's prone form was still and small next to him, eyes closed now and the blood cleaned carefully from his wounds. Ada had done it herself, refusing to let anyone else touch him as she carefully blotted away thick smudges of blood – oh god, why was there so much blood? – and gently closed his eyes, unable to stand his unseeing stare for a moment longer.

"Okay," Alby nodded, voice quiet. "Yeah, alright. Give us a second."

Newt nodded curtly, his eyes cutting over to Ada. For the first time in as long as she could remember, she didn't want to look at him. Didn't want to see the look of pity that she knew would be there, didn't want to share in the sadness that was drowning her soul. Instead she leant forward, smoothing back Avin's hair from his forehead, trying to avoid the bruises from where he must have hit his head as he went down.

"I'll come with." Minho said after a moment of silence, barely sparing a glance over his shoulder as he left the room quickly. Jeff patted Nick's arm once before washing his hands and leaving the room as well, shaking his head silently.

The door clicked shut, leaving just Alby, Ada, the corpse of their friend, and the unconscious body of the one that killed him.

"Ada, we have to move him."

"No."

"He can't stay up here." Alby leant forward, a warm hand slotting down onto her shoulder. "He deserves to be put to rest."

"I'm not putting him in the ground." Ada shook her head, dislodging the tears that had been stubbornly fixed in her eyes. They trailed down her cheeks, soothing the dry skin, clinging to her chapped lips. Her throat was thick with emotion. "I'm not putting him in the ground with the dead people."

"Ada, he's gone." She looked up sharply, and noticed for the first time how Alby was crying too, his lower lip quivering. He wasn't trying to be brave for her sake, wasn't putting up false pretences and pretending everything was okay. In that moment he was baring his soul to her, letting her see all the pain and heartbreak he usually kept on such a tight leash. "Avin's dead. He deserves to be put with his friends."

"We're his friends." Her hands tightened around Avin's, expecting him to squeeze back. He didn't. "He belongs up here, with us."

Alby leant forward, eyes closing as he pressed a kiss into her hairline. "We have to let him go."

"I don't want to."

"I know," he said, "neither do I. But we have to. There is nothing we can do, Ada, he's gone."

Ada's wet eyes tracked Avin's face, gaunt and hollow, ashy and cold. She couldn't see his mischievous eyes anymore, would no longer be able to ruffle his pale hair. There was a smudge of dried blood on the side of his neck that she had missed.

"Don't ask me to do this." Her voice was nothing more than a cracked whisper, lost in the room. "Please, I can't do it. Not again." First Luke, then Carson, then George, now Avin. "I can't do it again."

Alby let out a shuddering breath, closing one hand around hers, intertwining their fingers. "It's just us left." He said after a moment, and those were the worst words she had ever heard. "Luke, Carson, George, Avin... they're all dead. It's just us left."

The sob cracked out of her before she could stop it. Her head fell down onto Alby's shoulder, the tears coming unchecked. "You can't leave me too." She whispered through a sob. "I can't lose anyone else."

Alby didn't say anything, didn't make any promises he knew he couldn't keep. She was glad for it.

They would cross Avin's name off the wall tomorrow, bury him beside some of his closest friends. But for now, she held his hand, refusing to let go for just a little bit longer.

—

Usually during trials, the council hall was a riot of noise, voices clamouring over each other, desperate to be heard. Now, silence reigned over them, cutting off all sound.

From her position in the chair leaning back against one of the wooden support beams, Ada's eyes cut around the space, tired and sore from the crying. The entire glade was gathered; some standing, some sitting, some leaning against the walls, all silent with their eyes fixed to the floor, all plagued by horror and shock and grief.

Alby took a deep breath, taking a step forwards into the centre of the room. Ada's eyes lingered on the ground where he stood – she and Newt had spent so many hours exactly there, laughing and joking, learning to trust and rely on each other. It was hard to think that in a room where so much happiness and peace blossomed, they were now stood grieving, on the precipice of making one of the hardest decisions they would ever have to make.

"We need to talk," Alby began, "about what we should do going forward."

"What's there to talk about?" Someone spoke up, an unnamed glader she didn't care to recognise. "Nick killed Avin, and hospitalised two trackhoes. You booted Stephen for less. He has to go."

"Banish him." Someone else, nodding. "Kick him out, before he goes crazy again."

Someone shuffled to her right, and when Ada looked up it was to see Gally rubbing his thumb and forefinger together, face so carefully emotionless. His jaw was clenched hard, eyes stony, bloodshot.

She couldn't even begin to fathom how hard this must have been for him. Him, Nick, and Avin were inseparable, everyone knew it. His closest friend had murdered the boy he considered a younger brother, and now they were seriously debating killing him too. She watched as Gally cut himself off from emotion, distancing himself from the discussion, wanting no part in it.

She wished more than anything she could do the same.

"He's been stung," Minho shook his head, "it's not his fault. He wasn't in control."

"Yeah, that's the problem, isn't it?" Someone else said. "He ain't got control. That's dangerous."

"We're brushing over a big issue here," Minho spoke up, leaning forward with his hands on his knees. His usually smiling face was stoic, concerned. "Nick was stung. During the day. Grievers only come out at night, how the hell did this even happen?"

"Ennis was killed during the day too." Ada said after a moment of stunned silence. "It's possible he stumbled upon another passage, went down it not knowing what was waiting for him." She shrugged halfheartedly. "You did say he looked traumatised."

There was another moment of silence before Chuck spoke up, voice quiet and wavering. His already wide eyes looked massive in his head, his ruddy cheeks pale. "... are we really gonna kick him out? If he didn't mean to, it doesn't seem fair."

"There's no cure." Alby shook his head, eyes distant. Ada knew who he was thinking of – her mind kept straying there too. George had been feral in his final hours, driven to madness extreme enough that he took his own life. She had heard his screams from her hammock, desperate and wild and filled with agony she couldn't even fathom. His death, as much as the memory of him still sent a violent pain to her chest, was a mercy. Perhaps Nick's would be the same.

"But... he's our friend."

Chuck was right. Of course he was. Nick had been in the glade longer than most of them, almost as long as she and Alby had been. He'd been a constant and welcome presence in their lives for almost two years, and after their truce became a very dear friend to all of them. The idea of losing him, of never seeing him again and knowing that they were responsible for it... Ada looked away, shaking her head.

He had been stung. He had killed Avin. He wasn't himself.

"He's not," she said. "Not anymore."

"So we're gonna banish him?" Newt asked, his voice a lot closer than she was anticipating. He stood behind her and just to the left, leaning against the side of the same support beam she was resting against. When she looked back at him, he cast an expressionless look down at her, eyes roving over her face before looking back up to Alby. What a sight she must be, she thought miserably – hair tangled, eyes swollen and bloodshot, face pale, and still covered in Avin's blood.

"What choice do we have?" Alby asked.

"Lock him up." Someone said.

"We can ask the creators for a cure."

"We can try and get through to him."

"There has to be another option."

Voices started picking up, speaking over each other in the rush to be heard. She couldn't make them out, their pleas and suggestions lost in the cacophony. Ada leant back further against the pillar, eyes shutting tightly against the noise. She wanted to be in her hammock, curled up and safe under her blankets, tucked away from the world and its monsters.

She didn't realise her hands were shaking until someone's pinkie finger looped through her own.

Ada slowly opened her eyes, turning her head just a fraction to the right to where she knew Newt was standing, their hands now linked loosely between them, tucked away behind the pillar, protected from prying eyes. She didn't need to look at him to know what he was trying to tell her. What he was promising her. It was the same thing she had promised him, as he lay there broken and desperate on the hospital bed.

I can get you through this if you just let me.

She remembered whispering the words into the quiet between them, remembered the look on his face when he nodded and chose to try and live.

She squeezed back, just once, and didn't say anything as she turned her attention back to the trial.

"Enough!" Alby's voice boomed across the space, effectively silencing the noise. The quiet rang in her ears afterwards, somehow more deafening than the voices. "We need to face the truth, no matter how hard it is. This isn't like Stephen, who was banished because of choices he consciously made. Nick isn't himself, Nick is gone, now there's just some virus wearing his face and trying to kill people. He can't stay here."

"What about your one friend," someone spoke up, "you said before you knew someone who got stung. You didn't banish him."

"George killed himself before we could." Alby said, his voice wavering slightly. Ada shook her head silently, knowing he was wrong. They wouldn't have banished George anyway. That wasn't who they were back then, when they were younger and naive to what life in the glade was like, the kind of sacrifices they would have to make. "But the way he died... we can't leave Nick to go crazy like that. It was brutal. Trust me when I say the Grievers would be merciful."

"So, we don't have a choice?" Gally asked, his voice detached and stony. "We have to banish him?"

No one disagreed.

"Alright." He nodded, pushing away from the wall. "Then we banish him." He left the room before another word could be said, closing the door quietly behind him.

"Sundown tomorrow." Alby nodded. "Everyone, go get some rest. It's been a long day."

The gladers trickled out of the council hall one by one, all silent and solemn, no one daring to speak. She knew all too well the feeling of having someone's death on your hands. Living with their decision would be difficult, but it was necessary.

No matter how much it hurt.

Ada slowly unwound her hand from Newt's, not looking back at either him nor Alby as she made her way outside into the dark. The glade was pitch black, no lights or torches or fires lit. The vast emptiness of it all was prominent.

As she made her way across the grass towards her hammock, she glanced up at the med room where Nick and Avin still lay. A single torch was lit, shining through the window.

She didn't need to go up there to know it was Gally who had lit it.

She could imagine him sat there between his two friends, refusing to move, not knowing what to do with himself. She thought for a moment about joining him, but decided against it. She and Alby had already had their last moments with Avin's body, and had already had their final words put into the air between them. Gally deserved these last few moments of peace with his closest friends.

As she tugged her blanket over her head, shielding herself from the rest of the glade, she let the tears come once again, and cried herself into a restless sleep.

—

They buried Avin the next morning.

Ada spent hours beside his body, making sure he was clean, and comfortable, that his jacket was zipped to keep him warm. Not that he needed it, she thought bitterly. The tears had stopped as they carried Avin's body into the deadheads, numbness taking over instead, cold settling in her veins that refused to thaw.

His fellow builders dug the hole, as neat and tidy as possible, and lowered him into the ground with as much gentleness as they possessed. By the time Ada was finished with the headstone – a simple wooden cross wrapped with ivy, his name carved shakily in the middle, most of the gladers had shrank back into the woods, trying to busy themselves with meaningless tasks and work until the sun set.

Ada didn't move from Avin's grave the entire day, long after they had piled on the dirt and packed him firmly into the ground beside George. Her pants were covered in soil and loose blades of grass, her hands red and sore, but she refused to move, even as the sun climbed higher and then lower in the sky.

Alby's hand clamping down on her shoulder started her out of her thoughts long enough to realise that the sky was going dark again, and the doors were due to close soon. Nick had woken up around lunch time, he had said, and they didn't have the heart to sedate him again. Not when they were sending him off to his death.

He was sitting cross legged on the ground outside the maze doors when Ada finally reached him, head hung low, shoulders shaking. The veins that covered him were worse now, stretching up his face, wrapping around his bloodshot eyes, black and thick. His skin looked so thin it was a miracle it wasn't tearing, a strange shade of grey that made it look as if he were dying. Each rattling breath he took sent black spittle dripping down his chin.

"Nick." She said quietly, stopping a safe distance away from him. He didn't have any weapons, and his hands were tied behind him. "Nick, can you hear me?"

He looked up at her slowly, panting, and nodded. There was no recognition in his eyes.

"Nick," she continued, crouching down in front of him. "Do you know who I am? Do you recognise me?"

He didn't nod, didn't say anything, just looked at her. His lower lip trembled, spilling dark blood across his chin. It dribbled down onto his torn shirt, still stained with Avin's blood. He mouthed something she couldn't hear.

"What was that?"

He did it again, voice low and trembling, so scratchy she could barely hear it. She leant closer, ears straining. "Kill me." His voice cracked. "Kill me. Kill me. Kill me."

Ada swallowed heavily. "Nick..."

"It's time," Alby said, coming up behind her. When she turned, it was to see the rest of the glade crowded around the doors, forming a semi circle around them. A group of seven gladers stepped forward, including Minho, Newt, Gally, Frypan, Alby, Zart, and Winston. All of them held large wooden poles in their hands, the edges tied to a horizontal piece of wood in case Nick tried to get back into the glade.

Ada stood up and took a step back, away from Nick, throat bobbing hardly as she fought back the rising burn of tears.

"Nick," Alby said, voice carrying across the group, strong and authoritative. He was a complete contrast to how she was feeling, her insides knotting and heart threatening to burst out of her chest. A sense of anticipation and solemn dread hung heavy in the air. Unlike with Stephen's banishment, where indecision and fear were palpable, something far worse hung over their heads as they looked at the person who used to be their friend – acceptance. "Nick, we had a council meeting, about you being stung."

Nick showed no sign that he had heard them, squirming against the rope around his hands, his breathing picking up.

"Nick, do you understand why we have to banish you?" Alby continued. "Why we can't let you stay?"

Nick lifted his head and let out a furious bellow – it echoed into the darkening corridor behind him, lifting the hairs on their arms and necks. Ada's breath left her in a shuddering exhale as she stepped back into the crowd, crossing her arms tightly against her chest.

Right on time, the maze let out a shuddering groan, a dormant beast taking its first breath of the night. A stagnant wind, cold and reeking of rot, burst from the maze, a futile warning of what was to come. When it hit Nick he scrambled to his feet, clumsily falling twice before he could lift himself fully.

Alby sucked in a deep breath before raising his voice over the wind. "Poles." He instructed, and the gladers lowered the sticks so that they pushed against Nick. Ada could see reason start to leave him, see insanity creep back into his eyes as he lurched forward, pushing against the wood, teeth snapping at thin air. He let out a cry like a wounded beast, a strangled scream that chilled her blood. "LET ME GO!" His voice was as sharp as a blade. "LET ME GO!"

Chuck let out a whimper somewhere behind her before turning away, moving as fast as he was able to back to the Homestead. Ada spared only a second to watch him go before she turned tear-filled eyes back to the doors.

The doors let out a great scrape of metal on metal, blood curdling and deafening, as they began to close. The sound kicked Nick into overdrive, scrabbling against the wood, screaming until his voice cracked. Gally's jaw clenched as he looked away, locking eyes with Ada. Unable to stand the pain she saw there, she focussed instead on the doors, watching the great slabs of stone itch closer and closer together.

For Avin, she thought to herself, hands clenched so hard into fists her nails dug red crescent moons into her palms. For Nick, and the man he used to be.

"Don't, DON'T-" Nick was screaming now, spittle and blood flying from his mouth, staining the grass. His eyes flickered between terrified and stoic, as if he was trying to battle his way out of the struggle his body was going through.

The gladers with the poles began to push forward, shepherding Nick towards the doors and through them. He hesitated in the middle, pushing back with all his might. Ada's breath caught in her throat. If he didn't move, the walls would crush him, and she couldn't watch that. Couldn't watch him die so brutally right in front of her.

Newt stepped forward, tossing the pack of food and supplies through the space, into the maze. Nick turned and ran at it, hands scraping it as it hit the ground. He was clear of the doors now, brown hair flat against his forehead with sweat and blood as he looked up at them. His eyes were crazed, unrecognisable.

He ran at the doors right as they slammed shut, cutting him off from their view, his scream of fury lost into the night. Silence descended like a thick blanket. Ada let out a breath, hand rising to cover her heart, racing against her palm.

He wouldn't survive the night. This, she knew. Nick would be dead come dawn, and it was all she could do to be thankful that at least she didn't have to watch him die too.

—

The torch was barely lit as Gally crossed the two names off the wall.

Embers flickered feebly, clinging to the last dregs of life, desperate for salvation against the breeze that threatened to kill them. They didn't bother relighting it, simply letting it splutter out and die as lines were crossed into the carvings and Nick and Avin were officially put to peace.

Gally's throat bobbed as he lowered the dagger, stepping back with his eyes fixed on the wall. It was just the four of them – Newt, Ada, Gally, and Alby, stood in silence they didn't know how to fill. The other gladers had gone to bed, exhausted, whispering with their heads bowed and voices meek, no one daring to break the sombre quiet that had settled over them.

"There," Gally said, voice emotionless. "It's done."

Ada didn't reply, simply stepped forwards and placed a hand on Gally's bicep, leaning her head on his shoulder. He was warm and smelt like blood, and she tried not to let it overwhelm her. Exhaustion was rising hard and fast, and with it came the desire to be alone. But she couldn't be, not then. Not when he was looking at the wall, so lost.

"We should get some sleep." Alby said, turning away from the wall. "Up bright and early tomorrow."

The thought of waking up bright and early was just as welcome as the thought of sleeping then: not welcome at all. Despite her exhaustion, Ada's entire body was filled with restless energy, trapped and buzzing. "You go ahead." She shook her head. "I'm gonna wait up for a bit."

"You sure?" Alby frowned down at her. "It's been a long couple of days, you should really get some rest."

"I'll rest later. Promise."

Alby nodded sceptically, clapping Gally on the shoulder as he led him away from the wall. Ada watched them go, watched as Alby spoke to Gally in low tones she couldn't hear, offering what she assumed could only be words of comfort. Alby always seemed to know what to say to those that needed it. Where others floundered in the silence awkwardly, Alby seemed to pluck the words the person needed to hear out of their very own heart.

It was only when they were halfway across the Glade did she realise that Newt was still standing next to her.

She expected the silence between them to be awkward, neither knowing what to say after all that had happened between them. She looked away quickly, realising she was staring at his profile. "You should go get some sleep as well." She nodded her head towards the two retreating figures. "You look exhausted."

"No more exhausted than you."

Ada didn't know what to do with herself.

Newt looked down at her, seemingly lost in thought before he reached up to awkwardly scratch the back of his head. There was no coldness in his eyes, none of the lingering disdain she had grown so used to. Instead, he simply looked exhausted, hardly able to keep his eyes open. "Come on," he said eventually, stepping around her and towards the forest.

"Where are we going?" Ada asked needlessly. She knew exactly where he was taking her. What she didn't know was why.

"To say goodbye."

The forest was thick and dense in the dark, with no dappled sunlight streaking through the leaves to guide them. Ada knew the path to the deadheads like the back of her hand, having trodden it so many times, but the darkness was thick and oppressive around them, pressing in on all sides. When her foot caught on a tree root and she pitched forward, Newt's hands darted back to catch her by the arms, steadying her. He didn't speak, instead looping his pinkie around hers once more, using it to tug her along carefully behind him.

When they reached the graves, Ada felt a lump rising in her throat again, a surefire sign that tears were building. She didn't want to cry again, not after so many tears had been shed already. There was a torch already lit there, tucked into the ground, leftover from earlier. Like the one by the name wall it was barely surviving, hardly offering enough light for them to see much beyond the graves settled in rows in front of them. It was obvious which ones were fresh, the soil still upturned and dark against the ground.

Newt settled on the ground with his back against a tree, cross legged, hands massaging his sore leg. Ada watched him, wanting to ask if he was alright but not knowing if she had the right to anymore. He didn't seem mad, but offering her comfort when two of their friends had died was hardly the same as forgiving her for all her sins.

Instead, she turned back towards the graves, lowering herself down between Nick and Avin's, pressing her palms into the soil of both.

"I can't believe they're gone." Newt said eventually, accented voice breaking through the quiet. "It doesn't seem real, somehow."

"I don't want it to be." Ada shook her head. "I keep thinking that this is just another horrible dream. That you'll shake me awake like you always do, and I'll be in my hammock, with Avin and Nick waiting for me at the breakfast table."

"I wish I knew what to say to make it feel better." Newt said. "Not just for you, but for everyone. We've seen people die before, but this feels different somehow."

Ada shrugged. "Avin was just a kid. And Nick was his best friend."

"We're all just kids." She heard rustling as Newt got to his feet, moving over to where she was sitting. She didn't look at him as he sat down beside her, but kept her eyes stubbornly fixed on the headstones. She didn't realise she was crying again until Newt's fingers appeared in her peripheral vision, slowly wiping a tear away from her cheek. She turned her face into his hand, closing her eyes.

"Why are you doing this?" She asked. "I thought you were hurting."

"We're all hurting. I'm not gonna get some stupid fight get in the way of making sure you're alright."

"Stupid?" Ada echoed dubiously. "You sure had a lot of anger for just some 'stupid fight.' You haven't spoken to me in two months."

Newt swallowed, clearly considering his words carefully. "I didn't get it then. Why you did what you did. I didn't understand how you could just keep something like that from me. But seeing you today, with Avin, and then with Nick... you just don't want to lose anyone else. And I don't exactly have a good track record for sticking around when things get rough."

"And, what, you just decided all was forgiven?"

Newt shook his head, looking back at the graves. "I always knew life here was uncertain. That it was never guaranteed. But seeing Avin die like that, so quickly, so unexpectedly... none of us saw it coming, and it was over in seconds. Any one of us could get killed when we least expect it, and if that happens I don't want things between us to be like how they have been."

"So you're forgiving me only because you're scared one of us might die," Ada said sulkily. "That's just fantastic."

"I'm forgiving you because I need you in my life. Because these last two months have been hell and I don't wanna keep living like this. I miss how things used to be. I miss you. More than I've ever missed anything, I think." He looked up at her with a sheepish smile, but his eyes were serious as they met hers. "I'm sorry for the way that I've been acting. I should have just talked to you, tried to figure it out, but I was just so angry. I let it blind me, and I'm sorry for that."

Ada looked away, biting the inside of her cheek. She wanted so badly to hold it against him, to be petty and spiteful and tell him his apology wasn't good enough. But she deserved every bit of blame he had put on her, and the idea of things between them being fixed and normal again was a growing light in the hellscape of dark that had become her life.

She wanted to forgive him, to move from everything and put it safely behind them. Maybe then at least something would feel right again. "I'm sorry for lying to you."

"Don't be." Newt shook his head. "Looking back on it, you were right to keep it from me. It was news I wasn't ready to hear."

"And you are now?" Ada raised a dubious eyebrow.

Newt was quiet for a moment before he smiled softly at her, a dimple appearing in his right cheek. From this close she could see every line of his face, every emotion playing out in his eyes. "We're gonna find a way out. Like you said, we have to believe that. We'll get out of here, and all this will be worth it."

"I really hope you're right."

"I always am." He grinned cheekily. "Now listen, no more apologies, okay? No more lying, no more secrets, no more anger."

And god, didn't that just sound perfect? "I think I can agree to that."

Newt held his hand up, pinkie extended towards her. "We help each other through it, remember?"

Ada smiled, looping her pinkie through his. They sat there in front of the graves, lit up only by the light of a torch that didn't seem quite so dull anymore, sides pressed up against each other and hands linked once more, and finally the ice in her veins cracked and thawed.