Page 39 of Infinity Reaper (Infinity Cycle 2)

The day Prudencia revealed her powers, she told me how her father was the only celestial between her parents, but I don’t have the answers to any of Brighton’s other questions. “Just ask her,” I say.

“What’s the point?” Brighton asks. “I’m dying and it’s not like I’m going to come back.”

“Maybe it’s not about you. Prudencia might open up to you if you’re doing it for yourself, not Celestials of New York.”

“Did she say that?”

I shake my head. I never press Prudencia about her feelings for Brighton. She kept to herself while she was dating Dominic too, and I always swore that was because she didn’t want to mess with Brighton’s head, but after everything this past month I guess she’s more private than we realized. “Bright, talk to her. Unlike Ness, Prudencia is alive. If you only have a few months left to live, do you really want to spend that time not being honest?”

“You’re right,” Brighton says. I don’t hear those words from him that often. He looks up at the sky, taking in the stars. “If this constellation is supposed to represent change, then I should consider making some.”

He holds out his left fist, and at first I think he wants me to help him up, but I realize he’s waiting for a fist bump. It’s been a minute since we’ve done one. I guess having a real conversation that doesn’t end with him yelling at me warrants one. Our knuckles meet and we whistle.

“What are you doing?” I ask as he gets up.

“I’m going to make sure I don’t die with any regrets,” Brighton says and he walks back to the cottage.

Brighton leaves me alone with the Cloaked Phantom, and I stay out here, wishing I had the same chance to make things right with Ness.

Twenty-One

Ultimately

BRIGHTON

It’s really sinking in how short life is.

I walk back to the cottage, thinking about how I’ll never own a house I can show off to my family. How everything I always wanted for myself—fame, power, success, family—won’t ever happen. I made some stupid, arrogant choices and I’m paying the price for it now. But the conversations I’ve had lately with Ruth and Emil are inspiring me to make some better decisions before my time runs out.

Prudencia was in the shower when I left to go kill some tension with Emil but she’s nowhere to be seen inside now. I go back outside and I find her in the grass clearing by the toolshed, sitting cross-legged in the air. Her eyes are closed and she’s wobbling but mostly keeping her balance. There’s always been something attractive about Prudencia concentrating that distracted me so much that I would sneak peeks, like whenever we did homework together or made signs for protests or the couple times she helped me edit my videos. But she’s stunning in this moment, fully in her own element—wet dark hair pulled back by a rubber band, one of Ruth’s Every Body Is Super shirts tucked into sweatpants, and elevated by the power she’s kept secret for too many years.

I feel weird standing here and watching her, so I whisper her name to get her attention, louder and louder, until I accidentally scare her and she drops to the ground. I run over and help her up with my left hand. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to freak you out.”

Prudencia sucks in a breath while she massages her elbow. “It’s okay.”

“Do you need ice?” I turn to go back inside.

“No, it’s fine. Between all the battles lately I can handle a little fall.” She wipes the dirt from her hands onto her sweatpants. “What are you doing out here?”

“I was looking for you.” The seconds of silence that follow are too much, so I quickly add, “How about you?”

Prudencia points at the Cloaked Phantom. “We didn’t get a chance to appreciate the Crowned Dreamer at its zenith, so I figured I’d come out tonight and feel these stars on my skin.”

I start backing away. “Okay, I’ll leave you to that.”

I need to be better about respecting her background.

Prudencia sits on the grass and stares ahead at the bay. “I could use a break,” she says and I stop retreating. “Balancing myself in the air is pretty taxing. So, you were looking for me?”

“I just wanted to talk.”

“About . . . ?”

“Everything. Nothing. Whatever feels right.”

She pats the grass beside her. “Come sit.”

The last time we got to sit like this in nature was on my birthday. I hosted that underwhelming meet-up for not even a dozen Brightsiders and went home with too much merch. I have way more clout now, I’m sure I could get hundreds of people. But this focus on strangers has always been my problem. I’ve always had a real friend right here by my side. Someone who could’ve been more if I put her before others.