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“You called me a coward.” Another step. He sounds almost gentle. I think I preferred the angry version. “A bullshitter.Just Another Guy.”

“I didn’t mean?—”

“Oh, yes, you did. Don’t back down now, Rae. You meant every word.” He’s close enough now that I can see the pulse ticking in his throat.

My back hits something solid—one of the boulders ringing the grotto. Nowhere left for me to go.

“I’ve killed men, Rae.” His eyes bore into mine. “With these hands right here. I’ve done things that would make you vomit if I described them in detail. I am not a good man. I am not a safe man. I am not the kind of man who gets a happy ending. Neither does anyone unlucky enough to get caught in my gravity. Sowhen you stand there and call me a coward—when you mock me for notfollowing through—you should understand exactly what you’re asking for.”

Move, Rae. Move, move, MOVE.

I lunge to the side, desperate to put distance between us, to find a path back to the horse, to civilization, to anywhere that isn’there?—

But as I move, my sandal catches on a root.

My ankle twists.

And then I’m falling.

Lukas doesn’t move to stop me.

My back hits the water and the hot spring swallows me whole. It’s shockingly warm—blood-warm, womb-warm—but dark and murky. I don’t know which way is up. My red dress billows around me like a parachute.

The last thing I see before the light goes is Lukas’s face, staring down at me from the edge.

42

RAE

MINISTÈRE DE L'ÉCOLOGIE

SITE SURVEY: GROTTO 7B

Commune: Saint-Émile-sur-Vigne

Property: Lazarev Estate (Private)

Water Source: Natural thermal spring, 28°C

Depth: 2.4 metres (centre), 0.6m (edges)

Hazards: Drowning risk

Civilian Incidents Logged: 1

For as long as my breath lasts, it’s almost kinda nice down here.

As I fall deeper into the grotto, the water distorts everything. Lukas is a smear of shadow and silver, motionless at the edge. But he’s still clear enough for me to notice one very key detail:

He’s not reaching for me.

It’s then that my lungs start to burn. Not horribly, not yet, but the first whispers ofHey, girl, we need air soonare creeping in. I kick my legs, but the waterlogged silk of my dress tangles around my thighs like a straitjacket.

Through the wavering surface, I watch Lukas watch me drown. His hands hang loose at his sides. His face—what I can make of it through the rippling water—is totally blank.

Oh my God. He’s actually going to let me die.

This is how it ends. Not with a dramatic confrontation or a tearful confession, but just a pool of murky water and an emotionless tyrant watching it all happen.