Page 140 of The Last Hope

Stork clears his throat, his eyes reddening. “Can you check again?” he asks. “It’s a fykking newborn. Maybe she slipped through the cracks.”

The woman shakes her head. “There are no cracks here. Rovenview Orphanage is the most prestigious in all of Montbay.”

“Please,” I beg.

She scrolls through the faces again.

Three more times.

“I’m so sorry,” she apologizes when she reaches the end of this list. “How about this young FT? She’s four years old and makeseveryonein Rovenview double over laughing. Quite a comedian.”

Stork turns around and runs a hand over his hair. I don’t have to be his lifeblood to know he’s distraught. Zimmer is as calm as ever, like maybe this doesn’t surprise him at all.

I try my best not to look at the little girl’s photo. My heart has already fractured in two today, I don’t need it completely obliterated. “Our minds were set on a newborn,” I tell the woman. “We’ll wait. We have time.”

She smiles. “Splendid.” A crash in the hallway pulls her attention, and she slips away, hollering at the children who scream shrilly.

“This can’t be right,” Stork says. “There has to be a mistake.”

“Or,” Zimmer says, shaking his hand out of mine, but he slings it back onto my shoulder. “ThisMythsbook is wrong. It’s just a fykking fairy tale, Storky.”

Stork isn’t in the mood for Zimmer’s humor. He flashes a half-smile and makes a rude Fast-Tracker gesture thatZimmertaught him.

“That’s just nippy,” Zimmer mutters.

“Or,” I cut in. “We read the instructions wrong.”

“We didn’t,” Stork says. His head is swinging so much that his hair frees itself from the tie. The string falls to the ground. Frustrated, he bends down to pick it up. “Think of something else. Anything else.” His words are soft and he remains squatting, gaze on the floor in thought.

“I’m thinking… the answer isn’t down there,” Zimmer tells him.

“That’s not helping,” I say.

I’m surprised Stork hasn’t given up. Called it quits. But maybe he just can’t come to terms with the fact that this might be it. No other options for Earth but war. And with only two thousand humans left, the possibility of an entire race of people dying out is… inevitable.

I shiver.

Zimmer raises his hands. “All I’m saying is that maybe whoever wrote that book just wanted us to go on a great big adventure. Maybe it was a die-hard FT wanting to provide others with some thrills.”

Stork stands suddenly, hope glimmering in his blue eyes. “The author. That’s it. We find Sean Cavalletti. We ask him where the baby is.”

Zimmer groans. “No, fyke. That’s not what I meant. I’m done with the scavenger hunt. It’s been fun but I don’t much like all the water and mold.” He motions to his nose. “It’s botching my sense of smell.”

“It’s not about you, mate.” Stork walks toward the door.

Zimmer snorts and looks to me. “How many times have you heard that phrase in your life?”

“Too many,” I say.

Stork falters a little as we step outside, apologies shadowing his eyes. “I didn’t mean it like that, Zimmer.”

“No, yeah. I get it.” He laughs bitterly. “Heya, I’m just here for the ride.”

They argue on the steps of the orphanage, and I hold a handabove my eyes, shielding the sun. Across the canal, Mykal, Court, Kinden, and the Soarcastle sisters stand on the wide wooden pedestrian bridge. They’re not facing the orphanage like I’d thought they’d be. But I am glad to see Mykal holding on to Court, his arm slung up over his shoulders.

At least something is going right. Them being coupled again—it’s a bright spot.

I focus harder on their feelings and then I finally see what they’re all staring at. High above the main canal, a hologram is lit up. It broadcasts a news station to the whole city. The reporter’s lips move but no sound comes out.