“Karys? Are you all right?” Karys. Not Sparrow. I was me, not my sister, not a rebel with a mission, not just a piece of something, but a whole something that he was willing to fight for—to protect—for some reason. “I’m fine. And I don’t want to go anywhere,” I said softly. “I’d rather stay with…I mean…I want to be in here. With you.” He sat up, studying me closer, the weariness in his eyes giving way to brightness as he repeated my words on a breath. “With me.”
