“Luna,” he says, a knot in his throat. “I…” I shake my head on instinct. “No. Please.” I death-grip his hand. He’s not peeling me off him. If he were a murderer, he’d have handcuffs. He’d be in jail. And when I look at him, I know—I know he’s good. Why would I give my kyber crystal to someone bad? He is light. He is harmony. He is love. The Force is within him. I saw it. I knew it. I’ve just forgotten it somehow.
