Lev took a deep breath, the arrow’s fletching brushing his cheek. A glider shot across the field, coming into range. He released. The arrow streaked through the air and slammed into the board slung beneath the glider’s belly.

  Bullseye.

  Another one. His hands were steady, his form perfect, but that just made it worse. Because his body still thought Kara was fine, didn’t react to the news. He should have felt panic, but his skin didn't itch. He was relaxed, like everything was normal.

  Lev had been at practice when the runner arrived. A fire. The literature building. One person unaccounted for.

  Kara.

  Coach had told him to go home. He hadn’t. Instead, he’d gone to where the five-story building used to be. Now, it was nothing but charred girders and melted glass. Fire marshals had been swarming the scene, but their words had offered no relief. They were still searching, still investigating. The only lead? A possible electrical spark from a burst.

  Still, he felt fine, and that felt wrong. His body told him that she’d hugged him this morning. He could still feel the memory of it in his muscles. It told him everything was normal, but memory lost its warmth. And when that tether frayed—when memory stopped feeling like touch—he’d feel the cold in his bones.

  He hated that he could feel that fear rising in him. Not just for Kara’s safety, but for what he would become without her. And then the shame hit. Because what kind of brother thought about himself when his sister might be dead?

  Another glider launched with a metallic clang. Lev whirled toward the sound, and his eyes caught on the smoke curling in the distance. His grip tightened. Flashes of fire and choking smoke assaulted his mind as he pictured Kara trapped with no way out.

  His fingers released instinctively. The arrow flew, but his focus was shattered. It veered slightly off-course, embedding itself in one of the outer rings.

  A sharp whistle cut through the air. “I never thought I’d see you miss center. What would the reporters say?”

  Lev turned, lowering his bow. Ryan leaned against the equipment shed, arms crossed and still in his practice gear—sweat-damp, like he’d come straight from the court.

  “How’d you find me?” Lev asked, voice flat.

  Ryan shrugged. “A few of us split up, went to the usual places. I just got lucky.”

  Lev fiddled with an arrow in his quiver. “Did it occur to you that I might want to be alone?”

  Ryan didn’t hesitate. “Did it occur to you that maybe you shouldn’t be?”

  Lev grimaced. Of course, Ryan was the one who found him. Stubborn as a mule. If he thought Lev needed company, he wouldn’t leave. “I considered it,” Lev said, testing the waters. “And then decided on being alone.”

  Ryan pushed off the shed, stepping closer. “They haven’t found her yet. Maybe she wasn’t in the building.”

  Lev glanced toward the smoke. It was mostly hidden by the hills and rooftops now, but a haze still clung to the sky. “That’s the hope,” he muttered.

  But someone had seen Kara go inside. If she was fine, where was she? Why hadn’t she called? Could she have somehow missed that there was a fire? She was oblivious sometimes but usually not that oblivious.

  Lev turned away, trudging toward one of the fallen gliders. Ryan followed, silent for once. Lev yanked an arrow from the first glider’s target, too hard. The shaft bent in his grip. He swore under his breath. When he looked up, Ryan was watching him. The expression on his face said it all. Don’t even try to tell me you’re fine. You just murdered an arrow.

  Lev ignored the look, staring at the bent arrow for a few moments before tucking it back into his quiver. He’d fix it later. Moving around the circle, he pulled his remaining arrows more carefully. Ryan followed behind, gathering the targets.

  “So… why the archery range?” Ryan asked. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

  Lev did mind, but Ryan was here because he wanted to help, not to be a nuisance. He was trying. Lev couldn’t exactly fault him for that. “Archery takes enough calculation that it isn’t just muscle memory,” Lev admitted, exhaling. “And it’s something I can do alone. I needed a distraction. A textbook wasn’t going to cut it.”

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  “Yeah, no kidding.” Ryan made a face, like studying was the real tragedy here. Lev almost smiled. Ryan’s hatred of reading was legendary. He dodged books like they were heat-seeking missiles.

  Lev raised an eyebrow. “So if I went to the library, would you leave me alone?”

  Ryan smirked. “Depends on the section.” Then his grin faded. “If you’re going to torture me by making me watch you read, then be my guest. Someone else will find us eventually.”

  Right. Because apparently a good portion of the basketball team had been out looking for him. Lev rubbed the back of his neck. “How many went looking?”

  “About half the team. Some people had stuff to do after practice, and a couple really don’t like you, but the rest…”

  Lev adjusted the arrows in his quiver. Seven people. On their day off.

  “Thanks,” he said, quieter than he meant to. He hadn’t exactly wanted company, but knowing they cared? That meant something.

  Ryan just shrugged. “We all know you and Kara are close.”

  Lev nodded. Footsteps crunched against the gravel path. Lev immediately forced his body to relax, to look like nothing was wrong as he turned toward the sound, spotting a young woman in a runner’s uniform: blue stripe from shoulder to hip, meaning she worked for one of the university secretaries. Lev’s breath caught. Had they found Kara?

  The runner hesitated, glancing between him and Ryan before stepping forward and holding out an envelope. Lev set down his bow and took it, offering a polite smile. One that looked real—effortless, charming. The girl giggled. Under different circumstances, maybe he’d flirt a little. Maybe he’d play along.

  Not today.

  The girl didn’t leave. Neither did Ryan. Ryan, in fact, took a half-step closer, setting a hand on Lev’s shoulder, and something in him relaxed at the touch. Lev stared at the envelope. Response Requested.

  Great. If it was bad news, he could have an emotional breakdown in front of Ryan and this random girl. Fantastic.

  He broke the seal and slid out the letter. It wasn’t a university notice.

  Lev,

  I thought you might want to know, Casey is here at the shop. You might want to swing by and see him. Hope you can make it.

  We should really discuss that game the other day.

  -John Seabourne

  Lev wanted to frown, but he kept his face perfectly at ease. This made no sense. Casey wasn’t here. His friend had left yesterday. He wouldn’t be back this soon, and he definitely wouldn’t be waiting for Lev at John’s ice cream shop. And what game? Lev had a fencing match a few days ago, but John would never call that a game. And there hadn’t been any major sports matches on the vidstreams. The words itched at his brain. Something wasn’t right. Either John was losing it…

  Or something was really wrong.

  Lev swallowed hard. His mind was already on Kara. Now he had to deal with this too? The fastest fix was to go ask John. At least that was something he could do instead of worrying. Lev glanced back at the runner. “Can you have the secretaries send a response? Tell him I’ll come by later.”

  The runner nodded, but didn’t leave.

  Lev tilted his head at her. “Something else?”

  “Umm, sorry, I know this is stupid, but my little brother is a huge fan. Could I get a picture with you?” She held up a small film camera.

  Ryan let out an annoyed grunt. Lev exhaled through his nose. In his experience, it was easier—and faster—to just say yes. “Sure. One picture.”

  Ryan frowned, but the girl lit up with excitement. She passed the camera to Ryan, who accepted it like she’d handed him a venomous snake.

  She smoothed her hair and practically pranced to Lev’s side. Lev gave the camera a charming, easy smile—the kind that ended up on magazine covers. His shoulders relaxed. His eyes crinkled just enough to look real. Ryan’s eyes narrowed at him.

  Click. The shutter snapped.

  Before Lev could step back, the girl threw her arms around him in a quick embrace. Lev didn’t flinch. He even gave her a soft laugh, warm enough to sell the moment completely.

  But inside? For a second, the hug was a relief—grounding, like touch always was—but it was wrong. Unwanted. He didn’t want comfort from her. Not now. Not like this. He felt slimy and awful for feeling good at all right now.

  The girl skipped off, retrieving her camera from Ryan, who held it out like it might bite him next.

  “I’ll deliver your message. Thanks for the picture!” she chirped before jogging back toward the administration building.

  Lev watched her go. The ease drained from his shoulders, tension creeping back in the moment he dropped the performance.

  Ryan stared at him. “It’s scary how you can do that. It looks so real, but…” His voice had a quiet, almost sad edge to it.

  Lev didn’t look at him. “It’s muscle memory,” he muttered.

  Ryan shifted his weight. “Yeah. I know. Still…” He paused, then shrugged. “You know you could’ve said no, right? It’d be totally understandable.”

  Lev shrugged. “Most of the time, it’s more work than it’s worth. And hey, at least someone left here happy.”

  Ryan shot a glance at the letter still in Lev’s hand. “News?”

  “Not exactly,” Lev said. “John wants me to come by the ice cream parlor.”

  He didn’t mention Casey. That part still didn’t make sense. And if it was weird enough to make Ryan suspicious, he might insist on coming along.

  “That’s good though, right?” Ryan asked.

  Lev nodded. “Probably.” He grabbed his bow and quiver, returning them to the shed.

  Ryan followed. “You promise you’re going straight to John’s?” he pressed.

  Lev locked the shed and turned to raise an eyebrow at him. “I appreciate the concern, but I don’t need a babysitter. Just a friend.”

  Ryan’s face reddened. “Right. Sorry, I didn’t mean—”

  Lev waved him off. “It’s fine. I know what you meant. I’ll be fine, Ryan. Go tell the team you found me, alright? And tell them thank you.”

  Ryan hesitated, then nodded. He squeezed Lev’s shoulder before jogging off, glancing back once. Relief stuttered through Lev at the touch. He didn’t need it yet, but it still felt good, like a weight settling in the right place. He let himself feel it this time.

  Lev waved Ryan on, then headed for the public bike racks. He found a bike, adjusted the seat, and started toward John’s.