She pressed a pillow over her face. It replayed louder. The way he whispered, 'Not bad, Sweetheart,' as though dying were a minor inconvenience and kissing her were the only event of the evening worth reviewing.
By six thirty, she gave up on sleep entirely.
She didn't understand quite well how those worlds worked. But she only knew she needed to know if he was alive.
For instance, she could go to one of the Crowns Hotels that was situated in one of the posh locations of Demond City and demand to meet the higher authority, and if they did not agree, she would come back with a backup plan.
The idea felt stupid. And yet she couldn't let it go.
Usually, a Grim Reaper would appear when someone was about to die.
But there had been none on that terrace.
Not even for the young man who died before Cassian.
And that single thought hit her like sudden sunlight.
Does that mean they both survived?
A new hope rose so fast inside her chest it almost hurt.
*
*
*
