T he prison was a dead place. I nearly stumbled when I ran into those open doors. Every terrible memory seared into every crevice and carving of

its walls overwhelmed me.

The doors closed behind me as I ran into its open hallways. When I turned around, they were gone.

The panic took me fast. I could not move.

I was here, in a room of white and white and white. I was trapped and powerless. I could not fight back. I could not act. There was no warmth here. No heartbeat. No breath. No skin. The hard angles were not the shape of another mind.

I had never been so alone.

The shifting of the walls seemed to speak to me.

Welcome home, my lost soul, it whispered. You have always belonged here. You have always lived in death.

No. No.

I pressed my hand to my heart and for a horrible moment, I felt nothing.

No.

I squeezed my eyes shut.

I thought of Caduan’s smile and the taste of honey and the feeling of music vibrating in my veins.

I pressed harder.

And— there. Ba-dum, ba-dum. So slow, so faint.

I was alive, I reminded myself. Caduan needed me. I opened my eyes, let out my breath, and ran down the halls.