JUDE

There is no bomb.

There is an entire fucking floor of them. All interwoven, laced together. Dynamite and grenades, and the sound of a tick-tick-tick.

I am afraid to breathe. I don't even dare step down from the ladder.

"They are going to blow us to hell," I whisper to Alisa above.

The bottom of the ship is a fucking mine. One wrong move, and all of us will die instantly.

"When do we this?" I whisper.

From above, Daniel calls out, "There's a boat rowing towards us!"

My head snaps up. "They're almost here."

I don't need to say the rest. And then we all die.

Because the moment Imai presses the button on his control, there will be an explosion that puts the atomic bomb to shame.

But before I can tell myself not to, I am scrambling back up the ladder—to the edge of the deck. Hoping to catch a glimpse of her—of Hunter.

The rain is pounding down on the ship so hard I have to squint against it.

There is a faint smudge of shadow against the roaring ocean. A small boat, swaying over the treacherous waves.

Two people.

It has to be Hunter and Elijah.

She came for me.

And if she makes it here, she will die for me, too.

"We have to do this now," I tell Alisa and Daniel. "If they get close enough, Imai will press the button and we'll be damned."

Please. Please don't let this be for nothing.

"You're fucking insane," Alistair spits, but Daniel is holding a knife to his throat.

All it takes is a moment to reach the bottom of the ship. Before I touch the floor, I hesitate. I want to see the sky when I die.

One last thing. To die, facing the sky.

The last priority on my bucket list.

"Alisa," I say. "How much time do we have?"

"Probably five minutes," she says. "The storm will delay them. But in five minutes, they'll be inside our range."

"You must love Elijah," I say softly. "To want to do this."

But she only shakes her head. "I'm his pet—nothing more. We die either way, and I know that. I'm doing this for you, Jude. Because the way you feel about Hunter . . . that's what I would have wanted to have one day."

There is no reassurance I can offer her.

I can not even say, One day, you will.

There is no longer any one day.

"I'm sorry," I whisper.

"Don't be," she says fiercely. "This on the Yakuza. Not us. None of this is our fault. We are here because people love us, and that in itself . . . that's a good way to be remembered, no?"

I can only nod, because there are stupid, traitorous tears in my eyes.

Hunter loves me.

And I will never be able to say it back.

"Jude," Alisa says suddenly. "This is how."

"This is how I what?"

"You want to tell her you love her, no?" she says.

"Yes," I breathe, the tears strangling my voice.

"She'll know because of this," Alisa says. "If that's any comfort . . . your sacrifice is more meaningful than words could ever be. She'll know you loved her."

Somehow, somehow, this is more comforting to me than anything else.

"I didn't think of that," I say. "Thank you."

And before I can protest, she is hugging me tightly. Fiercely. "I'm glad I got to know you," she says. "At least for a little while."

"I'm glad I got to know you, too, Alisa," I say.

Green eyes blazing with determination, she says, "Then let's do this, Jude."

The ship is going to explode in five seconds.

I am sitting on top of the mast of the ship, the very highest point, and it is just above the trapdoor that leads belowdeck.

Once I drop this knife, it will touch the floor of the ship.

It will cause a chain reaction, lighting up the world, and I will die facing the sky.

One last accomplishment for my bucket list.

Alisa and Daniel are on the starboard, holding hands as they look out towards the ocean. I don't know where Alistair is—and maybe I should care, but I don't.

All I can think of now is Hunter on that rowboat.

Cutting through this dark, churning sea to make it here to me. Heaving towards this ship so she can save me.

I can't let her do that. I can't let her save me.

When the knife slips from my fingertips, it is liberation.

I watch it fall—down, down, down—until it is nothing but a speck that disappears into the shadowed entrance.

For a heartbeat, I imagine I can hear it clattering against the floor.

One second left.

Hunter is not close enough to be hit by the fire. If I could see her now, I would tell her to turn back so they won't be a casualty of the debris. But I know what she would do—I know she'd never leave me. Not if she thought there was a chance . . .

I think of what Alisa said. I think of the word sacrifice.

Sacrifice—the ultimate act of love.

And I think of my mom. How she faked her death and lied to me and hid from me. But I am not mad anymore. I forgive her, even if I might never trust her again.

I created my own life.

I made my own path.

I chose the Underground. I chose Hunter.

I choose this.

That is something she can never take away from me, and no matter what she knows—no matter what she can tell me, what information she can reveal, I know none of it will be as important as the present.

This is my life. This would have been my life.

And I think I might have been happy.

I really, truly would have been happy.

So whatever it is my mother hid from me, whatever truths she stole from my childhood, I don't care.

There is nothing she can tell me. Nothing she can say.

Everything I need is right here—and right there, in that rowboat.

Hunter is the blue-eyed girl.

And I don't know how she hid it—contacts or surgery or a lens—but I know it is true, and I know it in my bones.

Hunter was my best friend. Hunter is my childhood.

There is truly nothing my mother can offer me anymore.

I love you, I think to the silhouette on the stormy horizon.

The moment the knife hits the bottom of the ship, the world explodes.

And I become ash and fire.

>>>

I love you all.

Seriously. Every single one of you. I love you.

From the moon and back,
Sarai