The landline rings at dawn.

Ryan groans and shoves at my back, pushing me off the bed.

I grit my teeth, but stagger into the living room and pick the phone up. I grimace at it for a moment before putting it to my ear. "Hello?"

"You're okay," Tomas breathes a sigh of relief into my ear.

It's better than the yelling I'd surely get if it were Sasha or Amari.

I grab my underwear off the bedroom floor and pull them on. I toss myself onto the leather couch in the living room with a grunt. "I'm at the safehouse," I admit.

Tomas doesn't speak and I imagine him pantomiming his head exploding to Tae, who holds both hands to her mouth and tries to guess if that means I'm dead.

"Tomas," I grunt, scrubbing my face.

"Are you... enjoying yourself?"

"I'm a grown man," I remind him, sharply.

"We're aware!" he cries, his voice finally easing out of concern. "Have you been there all night? Why didn't you come back?"

"I needed some space. I didn't feel very good after... everything."

"Well, we need you to come back."

I gaze towards a window, where sunlight is peaking through a frosted window. I don't want to stay with Ryan much longer, but I may not have a choice. "I'll have to wait until tonight. There'll be less risk of getting caught."

"Well, we have a friend here who is insisting she must see you."

I swing my legs off the couch, my feet hitting the carpet. "Singh?" I ask, my voice tight.

"I said friend," Tomas growls.

I swing an arm out. "Well, I thought you were trying to give me a code! Like she's right in front of you and is going to kill you if you warn me!"

"No. Nothing like that, idiot. A professor. She's very drunk and won't leave until you come talk to her."

"I am... not drunk!" a voice shouts over the phone. "And even if I was drunk, sir, I could still kick your ass!"

"Can't you get her to leave?" I sigh, closing my eyes. "This isn't something I want to deal with."

"Well, it's not something we're going to deal with considering it's your fault she's here. Tae wouldn't have even let her in the house if it hadn't been for her shouting to the rooftops that she had to save you. You're lucky we let her in at all instead of killing her."

I glance to the open door of the bedroom, where Ryan is still snoring. Dealing with either of these situations isn't my idea of a good time, but I know which one I'd rather deal with. So, I leave a note saying "Emergency. Call later" and leave the safe house. I'll regret it later. But later me can suffer that. For now, I return to Tae's parents' house.

Sasha punches me in the shoulder as soon as I'm inside, but Amari won't even look at me.

Something turns in my stomach at the idea of her having seen my activities in a vision or something. It's not like we haven't shared gruesome details of our sex lives before. Amari's my best friend. She knows pretty much everything about me and I about her. But her knowing I was with Ryan of all people somehow makes me sick.

I stand for a moment to see if she'll give in and look my way, but by the time Tae pulls me to the back, she still hasn't.

Tae glances down the hall towards the living room. "Something going on with you two?"

"Amari's a little too invested in me and Tarak," I grumble.

Tae sighs and squeezes my arm. "Maybe she was just worried about you. The rest of us were."

"The rest of you don't have visions. She knew I was safe."

"You still vanished without telling us. The last time you did that-."

I hesitate, realizing for the first time I should've called. "Tae," I rasp.

Her lips tremble and she pulls back from me. She rakes a hand through her dark hair and huffs, "don't worry about it."

I drag her into my arms anyway, burying my face into the top of her head.

She's tense for a moment, then squeezes me, her face in my chest. "You're back now," she murmurs. "That's what matters."

"Thank you," I whisper, running my hand down her hair. I don't know when I started to matter to her, but I hate that I didn't see it before. I hate that I hurt her.

"I hope you've showered," she grunts.

A smile tugs at my lips. "I have," I assure, pulling away.

Tae jerks her head at the door. "Sasha and I got her mostly sober, but she's still a bit hungover. Try to get her to drink some water."

"Thanks, Tae."

"Anytime." She squeezes my shoulder and heads back to the living room.

I take a breath and open the door.

Miss Night sits on the bed I'd slept on what feels like days ago, holding a pillow to her chest, slouched over. She doesn't seem to notice me entering, as her gaze stays on a crack going into the baseboard of the wall in front of her.

I rub my hands on my jeans. There's a glass of water on the side table and I feel like I should put it in her hands. But I also feel if I move too fast, I might startle her. I shift so I'm in her field of vision, but she still doesn't react. "I wasn't expecting you."

Her gaze lifts to mine, hollow and full of a ghost we share. "You can't kill her," she rasps, her voice barely her own.

My jaw locks. "I don't know what you're-."

She tries to stand and fails, staggering back until she sits heavily onto the mattress.

I grab the glass of water now, offering it to her and forcing her to take a sip as I kneel in front of her. "What are you doing here, Miss Night?"

Her dark eyes narrow at me. "Tarak told me what you're planning to do."

"Of course, he did," I growl. "At least that wasn't a secret."

Miss Night shakes her head, squeezing her eyes shut tight. "You can't. You can't."

"You can't stop me."

She scrambles to grab me, as if she thinks I'm about to sprint off and assassinate Singh right this second. Her hands are tight on me, digging nails into my flesh. "I have to!"

"Calm down," I order.

Her nails bite harder, drawing blood. "I won't lose you to the same fight I lost..." Her nails ease back and she bites her lip, drawing her own blood this time.

"Maria?" I offer, in as soft of a voice as I can muster.

She closes her eyes and we both let the name sink into the air around us, into our skin, over the wounds Miss Night has caused. "Maria," she whispers in agreement.

It feels wrong to accuse her now, but we keep dancing around her obsession and it's hurting us both. "You loved her," I say.

Miss Night snatches her hands away from me and brings them to her chest, looking away from me. "I don't know what you're talking about," she whimpers, like I've punched her.

"Don't," I plead. "Why did you never say anything? To her?"

Miss Night – no. Diana, my mom's best friend – closes her eyes. "How do you know I didn't?"

"Why?" I repeat.

"I don't know," Diana says. She presses her elbows to her knees and sinks her fingers into her hair. "I guess I'd convinced myself that it was enough to just be around her. Or that it would be better timing after Singh was gone. Or that she was committed to... to your father."

I lick my lips and look away. Being around Miss Night brings my mom back momentarily. But it also puts my dad deeper into the ground. I guess it's a price I'm willing to pay.

"All I know is I didn't and now she's gone and I'm-." She grasps her hands at the air around her like she can physically grab how little she has. "I've tried, Mason. To keep her fight alive. To keep in contact with the dissenters and do my part. But without her... there's no point."

"What about all the people she swore to protect?" I ask.

Diana sneers at me. "All the people? You think she tried to make the world a better place for everyone else?" She jabs a finger into my chest. "She was doing that for you."

"Are you trying to make me feel guiltier about her death?"

Her fingers grip at my shirt and she pushes at me. "No. I'm trying-I'm trying to let you know how much she loved you. You were everything to her."

I almost say the same thing I said in the library the night I left the Academy. How I wasn't worth more than her rebellion. But I don't feel like going in circles with her. She has a view of my mother that I can't share and vice versa. She got all the love and I got all the contempt. Together, we can miss the real Maria Crane, but we just can't seem to meet in the middle. "Who was she?" I ask.

Diana looks at me, brows furrowed.

"I was a kid when she died. Maybe I'm unfair to her. Remembering all the things she did wrong without giving her any credit. She was just a person after all. I put too much weight on her mistakes."

Diana bites her lip and lifts her eyes to the ceiling, blinking back tears. "Maybe I give her too much benefit," she admits.

"Maybe," I whisper, settling on the bed beside her and pulling my knees into my chest. "But I like your version."

"Maria had flaws," Diana whispers her agreement. "But she loved so fiercely. She would've given anything for you."

I shake my head. "I don't want to hear that."

"Then, what do you want to hear?"

"Why did you love her? What was it about her that made her worth this grief?"

Diana blinks and studies the bookshelf over the window. "She was a good cook and she loved bad detective movies. She couldn't sing to save her life but it didn't stop her from trying, or from humming you to sleep every night. She was humble and brave and would always eat the last cookie, but would split it in half with you if you asked. She had this laugh like a donkey that you couldn't help but laughing along with. She always won at board games and would make it her mission to defeat you if you beat her. She never cursed. She smelled like mint. She was calm and smart. She loved the rain, but not as much as the snow. And not nearly as much as she loved you."

I lock my jaw and look away. "I wish I remembered her like that," I admit.

"How do you remember her?"

I take a breath, as if I'll be able to smell some mint if I breathe deep enough. "I remember someone who hurt someone I care about more than anything. More than myself. I remember someone who left me alone in that car for days while the Infected fed on her flesh. I remember her screams more than her songs."

Miss Night grabs my head and pulls me down into her arms.

I feel like a little kid, my knees hugged to my chest, my body squished into Diana's arms.

She rocks me back and forth as if I am some small child. Something she can protect.

There's more to say about my mom. More things Diana loves. More things I can't forget. But neither of us has the strength to remember right now.

I let her hold me like she can protect me and she lets me pretend, for a moment, that Maria is still alive in the safety of our embrace. When I finally manage to pull away, Miss Night grabs my arm where her nails bit in and the warmth of her power washes through me, taking the pain with it.

"Killing Singh won't bring your mom back," she warns me.

I stand and rub my hands together, eager to get away from the heaviness of our grief now. "No," I agree. "But it'll mean she can't take anyone else's loved ones away anymore." It'll mean I get to make my parents' dreams a reality. It'll mean I get to watch the life leave Ishani Singh's eyes. I go to the door without another word.

"Mason," she says, standing, wringing her hands together. She pulls her phone from her pocket. "He gave me his number. He doesn't want to know where you are or what you're planning. He wants to know you're okay. That's all."

The ghosts of Ryan's hands from last night brush down my body and I shudder against them, trying to shake them off. "Don't text him," I order.

"He's not her," she pleads.

I ball my fists and clench my teeth. "Why are you defending him?"

"Because the boy that tricked me into coming here when all I wanted was to give up had the same look in his eye that I did when Maria wanted to fight Singh. Someone willing to give anything to know you would make it out the other side."

"Tell him not to bother," I snarl. I grab the door knob so rough; I feel it start to mold under my hand.

"Mason," she cries.

All I want is to run away, but she's all I have of my mother, so I can't leave. I stop in the doorway, half-turned to her. She looks small, as if she's shrinking under the weight of everything.

"How did you know I hadn't told Maria? About my feelings?"

I hesitate, my hand easing up on the door knob. I want to hide my answer from her, because I know it will offer no comfort. In fact, it may offer only further pain. But my mother loved her and she deserves to know. "Because... because she would've chosen you."

Diana's entire form grows smaller as she curls into herself. Her expression tightens and she drops back onto the bed.

I slip away without another word, giving her the time she needs.