Chapter Text
Luz, I’m so happy I had you as a big sister.
A wish floated in her mind. Her body left the ground, the roots around her feet torn up into tatters. The shattered Isles shrank away as a word screamed from her throat.
She wished—for just an atom of a second—that she’d never been born.
If not for her, it couldn’t have come to this.
Her limbs buzzed, all fuzzy and reflective, bouncing around against walls of incomprehensibility. A single hand stretched outward, reaching hopelessly through the border between realms.
Reaching for King as his shockwave sent her flying away.
The distance grew like a wound. An inch further apart was another inch the knife dug deeper into her chest.
Motion.
Always the motion.
Everything in motion.
Her hand waving through the air.
The wound growing deeper and deeper.
The worlds blurring with movement.
All the happenings swirling about her mind.
All the moving pieces came crashing to a halt as the breath was punched from her lungs. Gravity threw her against a muddy, mucky wall. Her fingers wove into blades of grass.
Oh, it was ground.
The world turned wet as muck seeped into her clothes. Shadows of her surroundings tried to take meaning in her head, but tears drowned them out.
“No!” She shrieked. “KING!”
No. Please no. Not yet.
NOT YET!
She scrambled to her feet. He was there, floating before her eyes. Right there!
She reached out the same hand.
She’d get through the door.
She’d leap for him.
She’d catch his claw in her hand and pull him to safety.
She’d stop the Collector, no matter what.
She wouldn’t have to lose him yet.
I still have time!
The door swung shut. Her hand reached further. Further and further and further because he wasn’t gone yet. He was still right there. Right behind that door.
He wasn’t gone, so she kept reaching.
Her fingers latched around the doorknob as her wrist twisted with more strength than she’d ever had in her entire life.
The hinges groaned.
I can save—
The door swung open…
…to an empty shed.
A husk of an armchair in the corner, trash and clutter spattered about the floor. An old fireplace. A stairwell that led to an attic full of dust and rats.
No.
Please, no!
She slammed the door shut.
Let me try again!
She wrenched it open again.
Shed.
Shut.
Open.
Still the shed.
Still the human world.
Her spine shivered beneath the cold strikes of raindrops. Somewhere in the fog between her ears, she wondered why it wasn’t boiling.
Her eyes were stuck on the open door leading nowhere. Crisis flew through her bloodstream, only to crash and burn in the pit of her stomach.
A sound pricked her ears.
She turned toward its source.
What?
No, they’re not…
But they were. Hunter, Willow, Gus, and Amity all sat, one expression shared between their faces. The same shared on hers. The same storms swirling about with the same unanswered questions falling like hailstones.
Her small hands hung limp at her sides as she looked at the kids before her.
Kids?
She’d been a warrior in the Isles. A young, bashful lass who, despite her small stature and round ears, could save the world if it needed.
Despite all their limits, they’d all been there. They were fighting Belos as rebels of the Isles. They were making the impossible happen.
We were…
…
Luz could see them, misty through raindrops. Fear, confusion, grief. She’d always thought of their pack as bigger, or grander, somehow. She couldn’t quite grasp that they were always this small—mere children who didn’t know a thing.
She didn’t know a thing.
What do I do?
How…
She spotted it beyond them—home. The place where Luz Noceda moved when she was so little. When Dad was still alive. The place from which she’d run.
She’d finally done it—she’d gotten home, just like she’d promised…
Gus moved first. Luz thought the water on his face was from the rain, but as he keeled over a breaking sob, she realized the streams were tears.
Her heart throbbed with bruises.
They’re stuck here.
She’d done this.
Trapped them all in her world.
King was gone.
Eda was gone.
Everyone—
Her home—
—Second home—
She couldn’t think beyond fragments. She felt like the evil villain in every tale, standing before all whom she betrayed.
You ripped them from their world.
You didn’t save King.
You didn’t save Eda.
You helped Belos do this!
You did this.
You.
Did.
This.
Everyone would’ve been better off if you’d just gone to camp.
“Luz…” Amity whispered.
When had Amity stood up? Walked over? How long had they been here?
How long are you just going to stand here, Luz?
Start moving—do something!
You owe them.
Thanks to them, she was alive.
She had friends.
A girlfriend.
Thanks to them, she’d managed to find the happiness she thought was only found in pages and dreams.
And yet, thanks to her…
They’d lost everything.
“Come on.” She spoke hollowly, her gaze locking onto the shape of the Noceda house. “I know where we can go.”
She didn’t wait for an answer as she trudged ahead. Her stomach contorted wildly, throbbing and bouncing inside her with every step.
She didn’t want to walk.
Didn’t want to think, or breathe or cry or talk.
She felt numb with pains she knew yet couldn’t describe. It ebbed over her skin with sickening familiarity.
I think this is the worst day of my life.
Her legs wobbled, but she couldn’t fall with her friends right behind her, needing her to fix this.
What else was there to do but walk?
By the squelching sound of mud under feet, she knew they were following behind. Amity came up beside her, fingers weaving between her own. Luz glanced down at their interlocked hands, but her heart refused to let her feel the warmth.
I’ll get you home, Amity
I’ll fix this.
I swear. I swear I’ll fix this.
They crossed the lawn, somber and silent as water pelted them from above. Luz walked up the porch steps, glancing back, with a weak gesture.
“This is my house.” She explained, but as she reached for the doorknob, she felt like an intruder. A vanquished, banished scum crawling back to the last place that might open up.
She didn’t deserve to walk in.
She raised her fist, tapping her knuckles against the door.
Pull it together, Luz. She told herself. The four behind her needed her to be strong. To be there for them.
At least I can get them somewhere warm to sleep.
Light spilled into the downpour as the door swung open, and she found she didn’t have words nor the guts to greet the face she knew was before her. A brand new flood of emotions had swelled up her brainstem and stunned her speech.
Her mother only managed a gasp, her eyes filling with tears.
Luz swallowed the bitter pills of all her feelings. She’d already made her mother cry.
Despite the disaster inside her, Luz forced a smile onto her face—her mother deserved at least a smile, after all Luz had done. “Hey, Mom…” She forced out. Tears were trying to surge from her eyes, her voice turned shaky with the threat of sobs.
“I’m back…!”
The rain pattered against the ground like rickets, covering the shock with sound. She wouldn’t have blamed her mother if she struck Luz, here and now.
Something glowed in those eyes, and as her mother’s hand twitched ever so slightly, Luz’s muscles took it as permission to mush. Her knees wobbled and crumbled without their supports, sending her falling into her mother’s arms. The scent of lavender hit her upside the skull as she almost felt warm in her frozen, soaking wet head.
She couldn’t cry, but lumps began to strangle her as her fingers dug into cloth.
Oh, wait.
She could cry—her shoulders shook so violently she thought her skin might fall off her bones.
“Aye, Cariña—I’m—oh my baby… what happened? How did you…”
A thousand words hung in the silence that followed. They were battered by raindrops roaring and crashing against the roof. Her mother held Luz by her shoulders, holding her back to look her up and down. Luz stared at her shoes.
“Who are… what happened to you all?”
“I…” Luz began, but the floodwaters had drowned her brain. Her blood turned to dirty water, slugging its way through the knots of her organs. The coils twisted and curled and tightened around her waterlogged throat, nearly dragging acid from her stomach.
Mami, I’m so sorry.
I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry!
I’m a horrible daughter.
I’m a horrible friend.
I’m horrible!
I—
“It’s a long story.” Amity answered. “Um… we’re Luz’s friends… from the… um…”
Luz’s mother shook her head. “Of course, oh my goodness, come in, come inside, out of the rain mijos!”
“Rain…” Gus murmured behind her, Luz glanced toward him to see the illusionist staring with awe at the overcast. “Whoa.” He breathed.
Luz failed to understand him for several seconds. It was just rain, wasn’t it? Who cared abou—
Oh… right.
She’d been aware of the coldness of the drops before. How had she already forgotten it again?
My head’s all wrong. She thought as she followed her friends into the house. Her mother’s hand against her back was a comfort and a scolding.
Shoes were pulled off feet, and somehow her mother had managed to find towels and new socks for all of them—When did we get so many socks? Did we always have them?
The next thing she knew, she was shivering in a chair, clutching her jacket—Eda’s jacket—in her arms. Amity was on her right, their hands coiled together. They were clustered along the round table like hours on a clock. Willow, Hunter, and Gus sat to her left, then her mother. They were the 12 and 6. Despite their being closer than ever before, they were as far apart as clock-ily possible.
Vee sat down beside her mom while Hunter stared down at the waving and knotting lines in the table’s wooden grain.
Is he okay?
“Alright… Where do we even begin…?”
“What are your guys’ names?” Vee chimed in.
Luz was barely aware of her until she spoke, seated beside Camila.
No, She shook her head, I knew she was there.
“Right.” Luz murmured. She dragged her head upward and forced herself to focus, gesturing to each of the witches on either side of her. “Mom, this is Gus—he’s a genius illusionist—then this is Hunter—our enemy-turned-friend—”
“That’s my title?” Hunter groaned.
“Is it wrong?” Willow asked with a chuckle.
“—and then this is Willow—the str—second strongest witch I know… and then, this is Amity…”
She trailed off for a moment, unsure of the next two words to come out of her mouth.
How will she react?
She wanted me to be normal—
—queer is normal!
“my… uhh… Amity.” She finished. “Anyway, that’s everyone’s names!” She added quickly.
The floodgates finally burst into the world’s most broken history lesson (confessions not included). “And we need to get them back to the Boiling Isles—that’s the world I was in, cuz I—y’know… did a Luz thing—um,” She took half a breath and kept going, her lungs still screaming for air. “so this guy Belos, he’s super bad and he kinda-sorta tried to kill everyone with a draining spell but then failed because King stopped the spell by letting this even worse guy out, and I think Belos is dead now???”
Her lungs finally ran out of their meager air supply, leaving her voice too weak to push out more words and her chest heaving with effort. Her hands kept waving the story, but only wheezes spoke it.
“Okay—okay.” Amity’s arm ran along her shoulders, holding Luz in place. “Just, breathe. We can explain it. Take a sec, okay?”
Luz dropped her head into her hands, nodding in compliance.
“Aye, why don’t we all get some food, first?” Camila offered. “I was just finishing up dinner.”
“Would there be enough for everyone?” Amity asked. “I mean, it’s only you and Vee, and you weren’t expecting us at all…”
“Don’t worry.” Vee reassured her. “There’s always enough.”
A small smile managed its way onto Luz’s lips as she thought of those old family dinners. The sheer size of the tupperware containers they’d used to pack the rest away.
“Vee’s right.” She added, her voice breaking over meek tremors. “There is always enough.”
The kitchen erupted to life around her, ears filling with sounds. Heads rose above her while the feet of chairs scraped against the floor. Wooden panels thudded lightly as the cabinets were pulled open and dishes removed from them. Plates clinked softly against the tablecloth.
We’ve gotta stay together!
She blinked away the image, but her muscles still tightened like they were trying to hold the world together.
Her eyes saw the kitchen, the ears twitched to catch the sounds of the dinner’s assembly coming to fruition, yet all her mind could comprehend was static. It buzzed and pulsed in front of her every sense, wrapping her in a thick cocoon of self-spite.
Not this time.
Words floated in the air, leaking through the veil and into her brain without her knowledge.
They need silverware. She realized.
She stood and moved to the silverware drawer. Her finger slid along its face until they slipped beneath the handle. She tugged it back, only to find it filled with rubber spatulas and whisks.
“Oh, next drawer over, cariña.” Her mother pointed toward it. “We moved a few things.”
“Got it…” Luz nodded. She grabbed a fistful of spoons without bothering to count. She plopped them down onto the table, spreading them from seat to seat while Vee and her mother began spooning out ladlefuls of food into bowls.
Her mouth turned to a slathered mess of spit at the scent. For all the effort Eda had gone through to make sure she had food to eat, Luz felt like she’d been starved for weeks now that she was smelling her mother’s cooking again.
“What is it?” Gus asked, his eyes wide with fascination.
“Mondongo.” Luz answered. Even after all this time, she knew its aroma by heart. She could taste the flavors in the air—beefy, cilantro-y spice that floated into her nose and straight into her brain and heart. It was the kind of food that would have gotten her mocked at school, had she ever had the opportunity to eat with anyone real.
Whether it be good or bad luck, she’d never gotten that opening.
Sitting in front of all of them now, she felt a fast boil of panic rise.
What if they hate it? It’s a cow’s stomach!
“Wow…” Hunter mused, leaning over his bowl and staring into it as though there were an entire universe inside. “I’ve never smelled anything like this in my entire life…”
“Me neither!” Gus exclaimed. “It smells so good!”
Good? They like it?! She thought excitedly. Would they actually? Even now, she could barely digest half the food on the Isles…
Wait… why was I worried?
Most of their food blinks at them.
A shudder raced down her spine at the memory of that.
“Can I get anyone anything else? Any drinks?” Camila offered.
“Do you have tea?” Willow asked.
“I only have green tea, but I can squeeze some lemon into it.”
“Lemon?” Willow echoed, confused.
“Makes it sour.” Luz clarified. “Sugar will make it sweet.”
“Ooh… um…” Willow leaned over, whispering, “Can I get both? Sour-sweet sounds yummy!”
“Of course you can. Sugar makes everything yummier.” Luz declared.
“Comin’ right up.” Camila chimed in. She leaned over Luz’s planting a kiss on her head. “Te quiero tan mucho, mija. Bienvenida a casa.”
‘I love you so very much, mija. Welcome home.’
. . . . . . . . . .
Luz stared at the four walls that had once been her bedroom. The phantom shadows of posters and figurines hung only in memory. When she’d lived here, Azura and Hecate’s forms stood proudly on her shelves alongside Leafeon and Glaceon. Not far from them was the Holler Knight, Ghost, and Hornet, all gathered like the family that never got to be.
Her walls were, once upon a time, adorned with Azura’s likeness, alongside other anime she’d fallen in love with. Maka, with her massive spear—she’d tried for a while to draw her, but eventually Azura took over her hyperfixations.
Not that her room reflected those memories, anymore. The posters were tucked away, the figurines vanished from their posts. Even her collectible sword was missing.
Is it all… gone?
“It’s all in the basement, we can bring it back up.” Vee’s voice came from behind her.
The second her brain caught hold of the words’ meaning, relief flooded over her like a rogue wave crashing onto the shore. Her lungs finally let go of the dreaded breath to which they’d been clinging.
“Thank the Titan.” She wheezed. “That stuff was so expensive…”
“That’s what Camila said.” Vee chuckled nervously. She nudged her tail into the floor as she played with her hands. “Um… I’m sorry about… y’know… taking all of it out. It was before—”
“—You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.” Luz said with a wave of her hand. “You were there for my mom when I wasn’t.”
Yeah, because you were running around the Isles like a spoiled brat.
“I was just trying to be you.” Vee shrugged awkwardly.
“Aw, psh…” Luz scoffed jokingly. “You definitely did a better job than I would’ve…”
She waited for the scripted reaction to her joke—the chuckle that would guide them to the end of the conversation. Instead, she was met with silence and eye contact she wasn’t ready for. She felt herself curl inward under Vee’s gaze. Even knowing the glyphs didn’t work, she held her breath and wished she could slap her invisibility spell over her chest.
There was something tense hanging between them. Something known but unspoken, or maybe just the anticipation of whatever might be said next. Or maybe it was just a tight thread that bound one Luz to another.
Two girls who ran away when only one of them had any reason to at all.
“Luz, y—”
Behind Vee, Amity and Willow’s voices grew closer. “I wonder if there are other teas I could try.” Willow wondered aloud.
“I bet there are,” Amity affirmed as the pair appeared in the doorway, blankets tucked beneath their arms. “Ooh! Is this your room?” Amity beamed. Vee stepped aside to let them in.
“Well… most of my stuff is in the basement at the moment…” Luz explained. “Some of it’s still here, like—ooh! This is the dragon Azura fought in book 3!”
“Tirade! He was such a cool monster!” Amity balled her fists against her cheeks with an excited squeal, “I still love how she won that fight!”
“Fool-ridden beast, for you forget your inner vulnerability—your innards!” They quoted together, their words tumbling over laughter.
For the first time since…
Well…
Luz realized she didn’t know the last time she’d laughed, or smiled without it being forced. Now, it felt like a crime. How could she laugh when everything was so wrong?
“Oh, I left my phone downstairs.” Vee murmured to herself. “By the way, Willow, there are a lot of teas here you can try.”
“Really?!” Willow trilled joyfully as she fell in line with Vee. Their voices grew fainter and fainter as the stair steps creaked.
“Uh-huh! There’s fruity ones, minty ones—”
Luz stared at the dragon figure with torn desires. On one end of the rupture, she wanted to reclaim the joy that had just seized her. It had made everything just a little bit lighter, and she craved for the ease.
But across the chasm, she was ashamed for even wanting that. What relief did she deserve when all she’d done was ruin everything she touched?
“Where are we sleeping, by the way?” Amity asked. “Cuz… there’s only two beds.”
“Oh, well… I think Vee said she was gonna take the couch, so then…” Luz looked at the bunk beds, her face growing red.
Two beds, three bodies.
Luz glanced at Amity, her face burning even worse as she saw that they’d both stumbled into the same conclusion.
I hate math.
Am I ready to share a bed?
The question only invited more. One by one they crowded her chest until her heart was left with no room to beat and her lungs no room to breathe.
Is Amity?
What if I am and she’s not?
What if I’m not and she is?
What if—
“We don’t have to sleep in the same bed.” Amity said. “Or… unless, I don’t—”
Luz watched Amity blush, tripping over her words and holding her dress the way she did when she got nervous.
Better safe than sorry.
“It’s okay,” She reassured, more tired than humored. “We’ve got a cot, I’ll ask my mom for it.”
“Ask me what, mija?”
Luz turned, seeing her mother in the doorway, “Oh! Good timing, do we still have that camping cot?”
“Ah, sí, it’s in the basement, I’ve got to bring down sleeping bags for the boys anyway. I’ll go grab it.”
“Gracias, Mama.” Luz smiled.
“No problema, te quiero mija.”
“Te quiero también.”
Her mother disappeared, and Luz reached for the Azura figure still on her bookshelf. Amity slid beside her, leaning her head onto Luz’s shoulder. “I love hearing you speak Spanish.” She whispered. “Tan linda.”
“Eres aún más linda.” Luz cooed in reply, squeezing Amity’s hand as she stood. “I’m gonna go brush my teeth.”
She stepped out of her room, walking toward the bathroom with her eyes on the floor. If she looked up at all, she knew she’d see memories she couldn’t bear to hold in her gaze.
Floorboards were safer to trace, and she followed their trail until she nearly walked into the wall at the hallway’s end. She slipped into the bathroom, the floor chilled under her feet as wood turned to tile and the world brightened. The shadowed, colored walls of the hallway turned to a soft, well-illuminated mint.
She twisted the faucet and reached for her toothbrush and toothpaste. She squeezed a bit out onto the bristles, splashed water onto it, and scrubbed at her mouth. Still, her gaze stayed low, her mind unwilling to believe in her own reflection. Only grief and spite would be in store for her.
She lost track of how long she ran the brush over her teeth and into her tongue. By the time she was done, her gums were red, and she could practically feel the roots of her teeth tingling inside her. The water swirled pink as she spat it out.
She rinsed and spat until the water’s color returned to clear. She splashed her face once, the cold jarring away the fuzziness for moment before it came sweeping back over her.
Now, she looked up, a pair of eyes meeting hers. They were tired, pupils wide like a mouse hiding under a rock. Her irises trembled while her lips refused to curve anywhere near upward. She studied the abrasion against her right cheek, the bandage over her left eye. She had a dreadful inkling that it would end up scarring.
A year ago, she would’ve been thrilled to have such a scar. It would have looked so cool to those very eyes looking at hers. Now, she dreaded every reminder of anything.
A yawn broke her trance, exhaustion gave her the power to walk away from her visage. She began to walk back down the hall, legs growing heavier with each step. This time, with her gaze a little higher, she failed to miss one picture.
It sat quietly on the console table, beside a large, potted vine. Framed and propped up, it reached into her soul and wrenched it around, twisting and twisting and twisting with all its merciless might. She reached for the frame, cradling it in her palms as she heard footsteps.
She knew who it was, and what she had to say. What she owed.
“Mama,” Her voice trembled on the edge of breaking. “I-I know I shouldn’t have left.”
‘Stop adorably hopping away, you… huh?’
‘I wanna stay and become a witch! Like Azura!’
“I never meant to lie.” Her voice shook more, eyes growing wet and salty.
‘Promise me, when you come home, you’ll stay with me, and you’ll never go back to that place!’
‘Okay, Mom. I promise.’
Tears were leaking from the ducts as her voice cracked, “But… I had to stay and it-it wasn’t because I—” She shook her head, desperately trying to get the words out before her mother took her hand.
—I was never mad at you! I love you so much, you never pushed me away you were always there for me and I—
“—Hey, hey,” Camila soothed, wrapping her up. “We’ll have time to talk later.” Luz looked up at her mother, feeling the hug tighten around her shoulders. “I’m just… so happy you’re home.”
“Yeah…” Luz said quietly. She couldn’t escape the truth anymore. The promise she’d made. To stay. Here. In a world that didn’t want her. A world that didn’t need her. “I’m home.”
Her gaze drifted down the hallway, falling on Amity pulling the ties from Willow’s hair while Willow rubbed the sleepiness from her eyes.
“But… they’re not.” She added while her thoughts grew teeth.
What a mess you’ve made, Luz.
“We’ll figure it out.” Her mother reassured. “For now, get some sleep, querida.”
“Sí, mama.” Luz gulped. They separated, her mother nudging her gently toward her room. Amity’s cot was already set up—How long was I in the bathroom?—and Willow was folding her glasses and setting them aside on the bookshelf. Luz walked toward them with trembling knees and her lip between her teeth.
Luz sat down on the edge of her bed, while Amity sat on the edge of her cot.
“Does your eye hurt?” She asked, reaching up, cupping the side of Luz’s head. Her thumb barely touched the bandage, but the contact still stung.
“No, it’s fine.” Luz answered. “What about you?”
“This is nothing.” Amity soothed. “No tienes… pre…ocupad…a?”
A chuckle broke from Luz’s lips before she was aware of it, “¡Sí, muy bueno!” She clapped softly. Even in the midst of all this… Amity was still learning Spanish for her.
What am I doing?
“I swear, Amity, I’ll get you home.” She vowed. “I’ll find a way to fix everything.”
“It’s not all on you.” Amity insisted. “We’ll be there to help, and figure it out together.” She cupped Luz’s hands in her own, but Luz’s mind went awry as she stared down at the black nail polish. She hadn’t realized it until now, but Amity’s hair had grown longer, her gaze somehow sharper yet softer all at once.
Time had passed.
It had come to them and left them only with its aftermath. Her hands balled tighter, fearful of when their threads might be cut.
Please.
Please, just not yet.
I can’t do it again.
Vee came into the room, flashing a small grin to Luz as she looked up to Willow.
“Got a blanket to spare?”
“Oh! Of course!” Willow bundled one up and tossed it to the basilisk. Vee moved to the doorway, only to linger on the threshold, a finger hanging above the light switch. “Hey… um…” She began. “If there’s… anything I can do, let me know.”
“We will.” Luz answered. “Thank you, Vee… for everything.”
Vee gave an affirmative nod as her hand flicked back over the light switch. The room plunged into darkness, brightened only by the open door and the window, aglow with moonlight. The shape of Vee’s silhouette reached and pulled the door shut.
Now, they sat in a room darkened into outlines.
“Do you think anyone’s gonna sleep tonight?” Luz asked softly.
“I doubt it.”
She stared through the air of the room, images in front of her eyes. Her mind quietly took stock of every face for whom she worried.
King
Eda
Willow
Gus
Hunter
Amity
Mom
…It’s all because of me.
She felt the mattress shift beneath her, but nothing moved in the darkness in her vision. She was stuck on loops, imagining all the people back home who cared for them. Gus’s father, Willow’s dads, Amity’s whole family! Hunter… he surely had someone.
I have to get them home.
“Luz…”
Luz’s gaze as it meandered about the room until she found Amity’s eyes in the dimness, wide with fear. Luz looked down to see the girl’s trembling knuckles going white as they clutched the skirt of her dress.
“Are you okay?” Amity asked.
“Yeah, I’m fine…” Luz answered mechanically as truer words burned in her throat. A lie of a grin hid her failing struggle against tears.
It’ll be okay.
It’ll be okay.
“I’m…”
I don’t have to cr—
Then came the wave. It started in her chest, rising and rising until its crest crashed through her eyes. She felt her body twitch and jerk against the flood as snot dripped from her nose.
Her hands found her hair and held on for dear life. Arms wrapped around her shaking form, holding her together as she crumbled. She heard her choked sobs flowing through a veil into her ears.
“Everything will be okay.” Amity whispered. “It’ll be okay.”
The water crushed Luz’s insides. Her lungs screamed for air that wouldn’t go in, no matter how hard she tried. She sucked in the whole of Earth’s atmosphere, but all for nought. Her head fell onto Amity’s forearm, tears dripping down.
“It’s gonna be okay.” Amity said again. “We’ll get through this. It’ll be okay.”
She could only cry harder. Harder and harder and harder until there was nothing left inside. Weak, exhausted gasps of air ricocheted on the sides of her hollowed out body until her mind dove under the waves to escape consciousness.