I make to leave. Stop. Look over at Callidus’s space. A lump forms in my throat, despite my determination. As sterile as the rest of its surrounds, yet suddenly I can see him hunched over his desk. Scribbling on his wax tablet. Awake later and up earlier than anyone else. Flicking through books too advanced for me, let alone a Seventh. In my head, he turns to me and grins.
KILLING MYSELF
