Dammit, the second Zeke mentions we’re leaving I close up. It happens automatically, as it almost always does. And then I’m pushing everyone out, Enzo included.
No, no, no!
I’m stronger than this. I fought to be better than this. I’m not going to let this happen—not again.
I am f*****g healed.
I will not give in to the fear.
Jarod doesn’t get to win.
Milo doesn’t get to win.
The memories don’t get to win.
I win.
Enzo scoops up my legs in his arms, and I win the first battle of pushing the cold shield down.
“I’m okay,” I say.
Enzo smiles, but it’s fake. I know he’s worried about me. “I know you are. I know you can take care of yourself. You can heal yourself, but this is all my fault. We wouldn’t be running if it wasn’t for me.”
“It is your fault,” I say with a teasin
