Does that mean…? Did he tattoo me? “Are we friends?” I whisper. He looks to the door again. “I should go wait with everyone—” “Nonono,” I slur together in haste. “Please, stay. Please.” Donnelly hesitates, seriously conflicted. The kyber crystal—I spent my thirteenth birthday money on that necklace at Philly Comic-Con. It took me two hours to pick out the collectible, and it’s not something I would part with—but I did. I gave it to him. I must trust him.
