Page 144 of The Last Hope

Court cuts in, “You’ve been horribly quiet about all of this.”

I don’t realize he’s talking to me, until the silence grows. I meet Court’s stern, narrowed eyes like he can see through me. He’s too observant for his own good.

“What do you want me to say?” I ask into a sigh.

Court glares. “This isyourmission.”

I laugh. “And here, all this time after training, I thought we silently agreed that we’d both bear the leadership role.” Or was it just in my imagination that we had been working well together? It was nice for some time. To fake-believe someone else was carrying some of this responsibility.

Court frowns, but he doesn’t reply.

Mykal stops sewing for a second. He told us he was making the baby another blanket. I can’t feel their emotions. I don’t know what they’re sensing between each other, but even Franny is glancing over with worried eyes. She picks at the frog leg, the slowest to eat dinner tonight. No appetite.

Lifebloods—I’m trying so hard not to be jealous of what those three share. Franny has told me more than once about all the negatives. How it feels like a curse sometimes.

But there are moments in my life where it’d be nice not to have to explain what I’m feeling. For someone to just completely, wholeheartedlyunderstandme.

Court finally speaks again. “You’re the one that knew the admirals,” he says. “What would they want us to do?”

“Does that even matter, mate?” I shrug. “None of you were doing this missionforthe admirals. You all have your weird reasons. And I’m not an idiot; this baby could feasibly have parents in the city and that changes things for some of you.”

“What Court’s asking is,” Franny says to me, “does it change things foryou?”

I don’t have a flask, so I reach for the closest thing to me. A metal cigar tin. “And if we put it to a vote, mine won’t make a difference.” I open the tin; nothing is inside.

Zimmer looks me down and up. “I think you don’t know what to do.”

He’s right.

I don’t. There’s more to this situation than just my feelings. There’s a history involved with taking babies from their rightful birthplace and bringing them to a foreign land with foreign people. A history that belongs to Court, Franny, Mykal, and myself.

But I’m the only one with the brutal knowledge. And they deserve to know. Every piece of it, theydeserveto know.

Tell me, how am I supposed to go against the admirals’ dying wish? They raised me. Cradled me as a baby and loved me—even though I was their enemy. They gave me a place to rest my head and taught me all I know: ships, flying, and languages. How to be a good man, even when I failed at that.

Not a day passed that they didn’t remind me that I had a choice. Earth or my people. I chose their planet. Their home because one day, I thought it’d feel like mine.

And then without a second thought, they gave their lives for these three people in this room.

How… how do I just turn my back on that? For what, my own guilt? My own pain? They believed I was strong enough to carry this burden. But I am weak and selfish, and all I want is to rid myself of every last word.

And then, I can’t.

I just can’t.

“I don’t know,” I mutter.

“Fyke,” Franny curses. She pinches her nose and leans her head forward, blood rushing out of her nostrils. Mykal rushes to her side with some fabric to staunch it.

My eyes burn as I watch her growl in frustration. Something heavy weighs on my chest like it’s being compacted down by cinder blocks.

Guilt.

It’s been screwing with me for months.

But right now, all I want to do is sprint toward it. Not away like I’ve been doing.

“Franny,” I breathe her name. Too soft, she doesn’t hear me.