“I’m not ignoring my fate. I know there will come a point in time where I’ll become more it than me.” He swallows. “But as dangerous as hope is, you’re right—I have to fight for this. I think I’m stable for now, and I know it’s only day seventy—” “What is this magical number you have?” Gods help me if we’re looking at triple digits. He tucks my hair behind my ears. “Seventy-six. It’s twice Barlowe’s longest stretch without draining after his first significant channeling—the cliff incident. I didn’t want to get your hopes up, but I figure that making it seventy-six days will indicate that I can
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