“Where will you go when the war ends?” Malini asked, in the dark, in the quiet. “Nowhere,” Priya said. It was the most honest she could be. She felt the sting of her wrists, the echo of teeth at her throat. “Nowhere,” she whispered again. Malini pressed a ghost of a kiss to Priya’s hair. “Sleep,” she murmured. “I have you, Priya. I have you.”
