“Knox?” I whispered, hoping in vain to hear something—anything. Even just the slightest crackle would be enough. “Knox, if you aren’t faking your death, if you didn’t find a way to protect yourself from the bombs or get out ofthere, I’m going to find your corpse and kill you all over again. I hope you know that. I hope you know how mad I am at you right now, because—because until there’s a body, I’m never going to be able to believe you’re dead. Not after all the stunts you’ve pulled before. Because that’s something you’d do, isn’t it? Scare the shit out of me like this. Make me think you’re dead. You don’t have to, you know.” My voice broke. “I can keep a secret. You know I can keep a secret. Whatever your stupid plan is, I won’t tell anyone. Not even Greyson. Just—please be there. Please.”
Silence. My throat tightened, and I rested my head against the tiled wall, blinking back tears. He couldn’t be dead. I couldn’t make myself believe it. But even if he was, I would never see a body. Not in whatever was left of Elsewhere. And if he was really gone, I would drive myself crazy for the rest of my life, always wondering. Always hoping.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I should have listened to you. I should have done things your way from the start. I had no idea what I was doing, and I thought you didn’t, either, but—you did. And no matter how much of an idiot I was, you were always looking out for me. But when I finally had the chance to do the same for you, I failed.”
I closed my eyes, picturing the last time I’d seen Knox’s face. Standing together in his suite at Somerset while he touched my cheek, with all the gratitude and apologies that hung between us unsaid. I had to say them now, though. If Knox really was dead, he would never hear them, but I needed to say them for my own benefit. And if he had found some way to survive—if he was still out there somewhere, listening to every word I was saying, then it was worth the mortification. And the broken nose I would give him if I ever found out. Either way, I could never forgive myself for not warning him in time, but I had to make sure the universe knew I’d tried. I had to make sure I knew I’d tried.
“I know you were ready to sacrifice everything for the Blackcoats. I know—I know you’d prepared. But you weren’t supposed to die.” My voice caught, and it took me a moment to clear my throat. “You were supposed to live and seethe end of it. You were supposed to make it happen. But it can’t happen without you—I hope you know that. If you’re listening, I know you’re probably itching to say that I could do it, but I can’t. There’s no one left. Lila’s gone. You’re gone. And even if Benjy manages to avoid getting caught, I’m never going to see—” A soft sob bubbled out of me. “I can’t do this on my own, Knox. Please.”
“You’re not alone.” Greyson slipped into the bathroom and climbed into the bathtub opposite me. I shifted to give his long legs room. He looked about as exhausted as I felt, but his eyes burned with determination. “We’ll figure this out together, Kitty. That’s what Knox would have wanted us to do.”
Wordlessly I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. Right now, with the images of Elsewhere disintegrating still etched into the back of my eyelids, it was hard to feel even an inkling of hope. But Greyson offered me a pillow he’d brought from the bedroom, and I tucked it behind my head gratefully. I didn’t plan on sleeping tonight, but lying on the hard porcelain with Greyson right there—it was better than getting lost in the darkness. And right now, all I wanted was to find something to hold on to and cling to it with all my might.
We were both all the other had left. And if we were going to make it through this, we had to do it together.
Over the next three days, the government made hundreds of arrests and even more kills as they cleaned out what remained of the Blackcoat safe houses. The stream of faces and names on the news never seemed to end, and Daxton delighted in regaling Greyson and I over dinner with the progress his army had made that day. I kept holding my breath, hoping Knox’s name would crop up—better he be arrested than a pile of ash in the smoldering remains of Elsewhere. But it never did.
On the fourth day, once the government had rounded up every Blackcoat they could find, we gathered in Daxton’s office for the executions. Once again my hair and makeup were done by professionals, and I was dressed in celebratory red with the American flag pinned to my dress. Greyson was forced into a blue suit, and Daxton wore white. It would have been comical if I could remember what funny felt like.
Minister Bradley was there as well, lingering to the side, but always a presence. I refused to acknowledge him, knowing what he must have been willing to do in order to remain one of Daxton’s trusted advisers, and thankfully he didn’t try to speak to me, either.
On a wider screen hung up in front of the Hart family portrait, Daxton, Greyson, and I watched as Blackcoat after Blackcoat was executed on live television in front of a crowd of onlookers in the middle of D.C. Some were mercifully shot in the back of the head. But the higher up the ranks they went, the less merciful they became.