Broken

After

Three months later.

The scar on my palm is white now.

The black ink is gone.

Kade’s scar on his temple is too.

We’re sitting on the roof of our new apartment. Not a safehouse. A home.

Tayo is inside, blasting music and failing at cooking jollof.

The book is on the table between us.

Ordinary now. No glow. No words.

Just paper.

“Do you regret it?” Kade asks. He’s better. Stronger.

“Breaking the Halls?”

“Choosing me,” he says quietly.

I take his hand. Lace our fingers.

“I chose Tayo. I chose us. I chose not to let anyone else decide who lives or dies.”

He nods. Leans his head on my shoulder.

“For what it’s worth, Lira would’ve liked you.”

My chest aches. Sweet and sad.

“I would’ve liked her too.”

The city is quiet. No Reapers. No visions.

I still see things sometimes. Flickers. But I don’t have to change them.

I can just... live.

Tayo yells from inside: “Dinner’s ready! And it’s not poison!”

We both laugh.

Kade stands, pulls me up.

“You know,” he says, “when I was sent to find you, I thought I was delivering you to death.”

“And?”

“And instead you delivered me to life.”

He kisses my forehead.

The sun is setting. Gold over Abuja.

The book on the table flips one last time.

To a blank page.

And new words write themselves, slow:

*THE END.*

*AND THE BEGINNING.*

Because we broke the rules.

And we made new ones.

*Rule 1: We choose each other.*

*Rule 2: No one dies today.*

*Rule 3: Honey and knives always

*THE END*