❝ There are secrets hidden in our flesh. Our cells being born and dying with the same force that makes galaxies form and deconstruct. ❞ — Tanya Tagaq, Split Tooth

The walls of the cell seemed to be closing in, as if wanting to trap me within them and leave me to rot. I waited for Matt to tell me he was kidding, expected—hoped—to feel his laughter from the other end, followed by a, "I can't believe you fell for that."

When neither came, I asked him, "You're joking, aren't you, Matt?"

There was no reply. What I felt instead was his stifled sobs that couldn't be channeled through the telepathic connection. My heart sank.

"Theo can't be sick," I insisted, as if urging him to agree. "His guard Samuel caught Dragon Pox a couple of weeks ago and he didn't catch it from him then. We just lost Zoë—"

I stopped and closed my eyes. All I wanted was for this night to end already.

"Why didn't you tell him?"

"About the prophecy?" said Matt. "I saw no point."

"What do you mean, you saw no point?" I was beginning to grow irritated. Had Theo known earlier, before the Ministry officials went and fetched him, maybe things would've been different. "He could've reached out to Breeze and she could've introduced us sooner, told us about the plan and everything. None of us—none of this would—"

"It's not that simple, Polly," Matt interrupted. "Listen, what I told you . . . that's all I know, believe me. But think about it. If Breeze really wanted you guys to meet and carry on the plan together, don't you think she would've arranged that before we got here?"

I froze. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying, maybe that's not all it takes. Maybe there's more to the story I don't know. Breeze has never been one to spill her guts, no matter how much she trusts a person."

A surge of disappointment clawed at my skin. Nothing from what Matt was saying was wrong, but Breeze and I had been close. She'd chosen me to carry out the First Task of the prophecy, not Theo—for whatever reason. She was the first person to introduce me to the wizarding world and help me adjust and prepare for my destiny. She told me about my father's story, how much I reminded her of him.

I guess, in a way, I had felt special. Validated. Nobody in my old life had expressed that much sympathy for me before, and even my own mother—no matter how much I loved her—had kept many secrets for me. Breeze was someone I looked up to, as a mentor and friend. Hearing that she hadn't trusted me enough to tell me all she knew, especially since it concerned the fate of Dolphinuses, was a bitter pill to swallow.

"Don't take it personal," said Matt, reading my thoughts. "There's no person on the planet Breeze trusts with everything."

"She told your father about the prophecy. That's more than anything she ever told me."

"He had to know. My mom was supposed to play a part in it."

I sighed, but didn't push it further. However betrayed I felt from Breeze's secrecy, it was Theo catching Dragon Pox that swam in my brain. What would we do? There had to be something. I couldn't stand to see another person die. I wouldn't. Not when there was a chance of ending this madness.

"I'll talk to him," I said.

I almost expected Matt to disagree and tell me it wasn't a good idea, but after a short pause, all he said was, "Okay."

"Until tomorrow, Polly," he added after a brief pause.

Our version of "good night." Parting words that both avoided the dreaded "goodbye" and promised there would be a tomorrow to look forward to, a tomorrow when we'd reconnect again. But there was a grimness to his voice. For one of us, there might not be that tomorrow.

"Until tomorrow," I said.

I felt the absence of Matt's presence like he'd just hung up a phone. It was weird to think he was still there, in his cell, a telepathic connection away from reach, and yet it was so clear to us when a conversation had come to an end. Almost like we had always known how to do this, to switch our brains on and off when we wanted to interact with each other.

I tried to reach out to Theo. He didn't outright respond, so I tried to call for him again. I knew he could hear me; I could feel it. He was still awake.

"Theo," I tried again. "I know you're there and I know you caught Dragon Pox. Matt and I just got done talking. Er, listen . . . I don't know how you're feeling—" I bit my lip. Why was it so hard to form words? How could you console someone who had contracted a fatal disease, while they were still grieving their partner's death? "I'm really sorry this is happening to you. I know that's not much consolation, but . . . we'll figure out a way to help. We will. All of us."

The room felt ten degrees colder. The disk of the moon that gleamed faintly from the barred window looked far, far away.

"How?"

I almost jumped. A reply was the last thing I'd expected.

"You're there," I said. "I mean, I knew you were, I just . . . well, I wasn't sure if you were listening." I took a deep breath. "Listen, I'll talk to my guard Maureen. She must know what to do. There's an antidote for Dragon Pox, right? You said so yourself."

His response came after a short pause. "Yeah."

"Okay, good. Well, Maureen has helped me a bunch of times. She's a good person, trust me. If I ask her to get you a dose of the antidote somehow, you'll live. Okay? Are you still with me?"

There was silence on the other hand, but I could feel Theo's presence like I had once heard my roommates' breathing as they slept in the Gryffindor dorms.

"The antidote don't guarantee healing," he said. "Small doses are used to keep the virus from spreadin', but to heal you need a well-brewed Dragon Pox Potion, plenty o' food and strong Healing Spells."

"We'll get you what we can," I said without a second thought. "You'll survive, okay? You just need to hold on for now."

"I ain't scared of death," he said. "My sister Sophia said that those who know Jesus are unafraid. For if we live, we live to the Lord, and if we die, we die to the Lord. So then, whether we live or whether we die, we are the Lord's."

"Huh?"

"Romans 14:8. It means that the Lord will still be with us upon death. He has promised eternal life for those who live for Him and—"

"Oh my fucking god, Theo," I cut in, rolling my eyes. "Cut this crap. Now's not the time."

"Don't use the Lord's name in vain."

Was he for freaking real? If I'd facepalmed harder, I would've given myself a headache.

"Look," I said. "It's great that you believe in heaven and afterlife and all that, but that doesn't mean you have to give up when there's a chance you could live. Whatever is on the other side, do you really not . . . want to be on this side for as long as you can? When there's still a battle to fight?"

"You can fight it without me," he said. "I'll keep all you guys in my prayers."

"Screw your prayers!"

"Stop it!"

He wasn't yelling, but he might as well have. I didn't think the day would come where I'd see Theo angry but I knew my words had pissed him off. His words were pissing me off. If he knew about the prophecy, would his reaction to death be any different? Was this how little he cared about living?

"I'll talk to Maureen," I repeated, trying to calm myself. "I will do what I can. I—"

Promise, I'd almost said. But I held myself back. I couldn't promise. I'd done that enough already, and in vain. I couldn't stand to fail yet another person.

"Please," I was almost begging now. "Hold on just a little longer. Just one more day. Alright? Just until tomorrow."

He was silent again. It took me a minute or two to register his tears, the despair he was trying to smother, his denial over his fear of death, his grief. About Zoë, about himself, about the life he had lost inside the dirty Azkaban walls.

"Alright," he said eventually. "Until tomorrow."

The connection was lost.

▼

I woke up with the infantile desire to be held. Out of every need Azkaban had taken from me—proper food, long showers, clothes, warmth, freedom—somehow, physical contact was one I longed for the most. Every day, I tried to suppress my need for human interaction that didn't rely solely on telepathy, but today, the loneliness came in waves.

If only Sibi was here to hug me, give me that sweet smile of hers and tell me everything was going to be okay, so long as I had her and Mike. If only my mom could tuck me to bed, press a kiss to my forehead and sing me lullabies to sleep as she used to when I was younger, songs from the soundtracks of all the anime she made me watch with her. If only I could hear Rochelle's voice, saying "what's up, Sloth?" when she picked up the phone and I asked her if we could hang out.

So many people I missed. So many people I didn't know if I'd ever see again. I will, I told myself, I have to.

When Longstreth strode down the hallway, I expected him to announce "All here," as he did each morning—followed, perhaps, by an inmate number of another girl who had died from Dragon Pox. What I didn't expect was for him to stop by Stella's cell.

"Where is she?" he hissed.

My stomach dropped. She wasn't there?

"Susie took her to the restroom, sir," Stella's guard, who I'd learned was called Terence, said. "I don't know why she isn't back yet."

Longstreth growled. "When the devil will these kids learn that being tardy has consequences?"

"My apologies for the delay, lieutenant," came a woman's voice. Stella's female guard Susie was now standing behind Longstreth, her wand pointed at the back of Stella's head.

Longstreth turned around. Now that his face was in view again, I could see the wrinkles in his forehead and lines around his tightly pursed lips. I shifted my gaze to Stella's pallid face, searching for any potential traces of the sickness. She looked starved, but healthy. Or so I hoped.

"What have I said about failing to be on your cell during count time?" he snarled, ignoring Susie.

Stella looked up to meet his eye. She didn't flinch. There was a challenge and condescension to the way she held Longstreth's gaze.

"That there will be disciplinary action," she answered.

"Stella, don't," I warned.

She tilted her head slightly to look at me in the eye. Her voice filled my head but her lips didn't move. "Or what, Polly?"

I didn't have time to respond, because Longstreth started scolding her and told her she'd get a punishment. But he didn't announce what that would be. Instead, he brushed some dust off the shoulders of his grey jacket and strode away. Once Maureen and Xavier left with the rest of the guards, I rushed to the door, gripping the bars as I peeked into Stella's cell.

"What the hell was that?" I practically cried. "Stella, don't you get how dangerous it is to go breaking the rules in a time like this? Any punishment will increase your chances of catching Dragon Pox."

"What if I don't get to leave the cell?" she shot back. "Theo got punished to no dinner for a month a while back. Longstreth could give me the same thing."

"And how is that any better? You're already not having breakfast. If you're also deprived of dinner, you'll—" I swallowed. "Those with a weaker immune system are more likely to get ill. You're also the youngest, which means you're already at high risk. Do you really want-"

"For goodness' sake, Polly! Will you stop babysitting me? You're not Christi."

Her voice broke at the last syllable. I felt an invisible iron fist clutch my throat, rendering me at a loss for words. An awkward silence stretched between us.

"I'm sick of being treated like some fragile souvenir," she said. "I'm the youngest here, I get it. You feel responsible for me, I get that too. But I'm not weak."

"I didn't say that," I whispered.

"You don't have to. I may not be badass and tough like Christi, or smart like Lexi, and I know they meant well being overprotective of me growing up. But I'm my own person. I was cautious of the Ilvermorny guys when we first got here, but I never distrusted them like you did. I've talked to Theo a couple of times now."

I inhaled sharply, but before I could interrupt, she continued, her voice heated now, "I know he has Dragon Pox, by the way. I knew when Zoë's execution date was coming up, even though you refused to tell me. I also know I'm not immune to the disease, which is why Terence has been telling me to stay in my cell at all costs. I'm not just some dumb kid, you know."

I opened my mouth, then closed it again.

"If there's anything I haven't told you," I said slowly. "It has been because I don't want you to get scared."

"You're scared all the time, Polly. And you live with it. Why do you think I can't?"

The words hit me like a punch in the stomach. She could tell. Hard as I'd tried to keep my thoughts locked so that I could spare her the desperation of what ran through my brain, she knew. She wasn't half as naive as I'd pegged her to be.

"I'm sorry if I've underestimated you," I said, and I meant it. "But please, understand me. Now's not the time to rebel. I don't want you to get in trouble."

There was a loud sigh, half exasperation, half frustration. I thought she would snap again, but instead she only said one sentence, her voice calm but controlled.

"I think now is exactly the time to rebel."

Before I could add anything else, the guards returned to the hallway to escort the girls to the cafeteria. Neither Maureen nor Xavier bothered with me, as usual. But something came over me when I saw them. Their heads were shielded by the Bubble Charm.

I thought of Theo and my hands balled into fists. It was that simple for them to protect themselves from a fatal disease outbreak. Just a swish of the wand and a spell. What did it cost them to help us out the same way?

Their jobs, I realized. They'd rather keep their jobs than kids from dying.

"Good morning, 372," said Maureen. There was the slightest trace of a smile on her lips.

I scowled. "Good morning? Look at what's happening around us, Maureen. Nothing is good about this."

She was silent, her thin eyebrows rising.

"Is it one of your friends?" she asked. "Did someone catch it?"

My shoulders fell. I closed my eyes and raked my hands in my hair. Bad decision. My messy ponytail, barely held together by my shoelace, came loose. I withdrew my fingers. It was as if I'd soaked them in a bottle of olive oil.

"It's Theo," I said. "And I need your help. I can't let him die."

Maureen averted eye contact. "What's his cell number?"

"Oh, um . . ." I realized I didn't know. I'd never asked him because I hadn't felt the need to. And yet, the fact they knew our cell numbers before our actual names made my stomach stirr. "I can ask him. Or you could ask one of the guards in his hallway—" A realization dawned on me. "His guard was the one who caught Dragon Pox and was sent to St Mungos."

"Samuel?" asked Maureen.

"Yes, him."

She nodded slowly, but didn't say anything. I got to my feet and approached the bars.

"Maureen, please," I whispered. "I need your help now more than ever. You've helped me before."

"But not on things that are out of my hand," she said. She shot me a sympathetic look. "I'm sorry, 372. There's nothing to be done now."

A feeling of deja vu hit me like a whiplash. I had heard those words before, not too long ago. Headmaster Dashawn had told me that exact phrase after I got out of the Hospital Wing and read the Simmons' article. Right before the Ministry officials arrived.

But I had managed to survive thus far. I had learned Legilimency, Occlumency, telepathy. I had found out about the prophecy, a means of ending this genocide. I had trusted again, even after the betrayal.

Nothing had prevented my conviction, but being here didn't mean my life was over. Not yet.

"You're wrong," I said. "There's always something to be done. It's just a matter of whether you're willing to do it."

Maureen let out a sigh. "We don't have an antidote here. Even if we did, we're not supposed to give it to inmates."

"The same way you're not supposed to give them extra clothes or save them from punishment?"

I sought her gaze as I said it, but she wasn't looking at me.

"I can't leave this place," she said, almost in a whisper. "If I have a need for anything, I need to ask the Lieutenant or governess Celander and they'll get it for me. I can't do that with a Dragon Pox Potion. If I were to leave, they would notice."

I clenched my jaw and slumped down on my bed. "So that's it? That's your answer? You don't want to risk it, so you're not even going to try?"

For the third time, she dropped her gaze to the floor. "I'm sorry, 372. I wish I could—"

"Save it."

I'd had enough of meaningless apologies. They weren't any different than what I used to tell Rollick when I showed up in Transfiguration without my homework. I shot Maureen the most derisive look I could muster.

"I hope your choices keep you up at night," I muttered.

She didn't reply. But she lingered behind the door for a moment before turning and walking away. I fell back on the bed, facing the ceiling. How could someone have the power to take action, save a life, and choose not to? Stella's words rang in my ear. I think now is exactly the time to rebel.

It was a moment of epiphany. Between the anger and hopelessness, the need for help and that for justice, lay possibility. A solution. What did you do when freedom was taken from you? You clawed your way back to it and reclaimed what was yours. You fought. You did everything you could not to give up. I hadn't given up this far, and I certainly didn't plan on doing so now.

"Stella," I said. "You were right."

"About what?" she asked.

"Now is the perfect time to rebel."

Before waiting for a response, I reached out to Theo. He didn't answer right away, even though I could feel his presence on the other side, but I didn't wait for a response from him either. I knew what we had to do.

We wouldn't stay here and succumb to this illness, let it take us one by one. That was what they wanted. It would make their job of wiping us out easier. We'd help ourselves where they wouldn't help us. The last thing I planned to do was sit there with hands in my pockets and watch us all die. Willard still had to pay.

So I took a deep breath and told Theo the solution. Something we should've thought of a while ago.

"We're going to break out of Azkaban."