solid handful of fabric at the edge of her sleeve. She shrugged, a cheerful, ungraceful movement. “It’s fine. I’m sure there’s lots of interesting stuff out there.” No. I wasn’t ready. There were still so many things I wanted to tell her—all of them, Atraclius, my parents, the twins . . . I blurted out, “It wasn’t me. I need you to know—” She let out a scoff. “Ascended above, shut up, Max. We always knew it wasn’t you.” She looked over her shoulder. “I’ve got to go. And so do you. Try not to be so scared of everything all the time, all right?”
THEY. ALWAYS. KNEW.
