Morning light slanted through the curtains. Magnolia woke to the sound of Yi moving around the room, already dressed, pulling open drawers with the energy of someone who'd been awake for hours.

  "You're up," she said, voice still thick with sleep.

  "Couldn't stay in bed." He was gathering clothes off the floor, the back of a chair, a pile that had colonized the corner of his desk. "Now that Ashfall Eve's done, I want to clean this place properly. It's gotten bad."

  He wasn't wrong. Dust in the corners. Papers listing sideways. The general film of neglect that settles when someone's been too tired to care.

  "Would you take Skippy out?" Yi asked, stuffing the clothes into a basket. "He's been giving me looks. The guilt is unbearable."

  A furry head appeared in the doorway at the sound of his name. Skippy's tail was already going, his whole back half swinging with it.

  "He heard you," Magnolia said.

  "He only knows one word and it's 'walk.'"

  Skippy barked once, confirming.

  Magnolia pulled on her dress from the night before and made her way downstairs, where the dog had already stationed himself at the door, vibrating. He dragged her outside the moment she got the leash clipped.

  The air still smelled faintly of smoke and festival. She let him lead, her mind drifting back to the hilltop. The fireworks. Yi's voice in the dark, telling her he didn't want to walk alone anymore.

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  She was still smiling when they turned the corner.

  The walk took longer than she'd intended.

  Skippy had found a particularly fascinating patch of grass near the market square and had spent nearly ten minutes sniffing every individual blade as though each one contained secrets vital to his continued existence. By the time they finally turned back toward the house, the sun had climbed higher, burning off the morning mist and painting the ground in shades of warm gold.

  Magnolia was thinking about breakfast. About whether Yi had managed to finish cleaning, or whether he'd gotten distracted by some book or document and forgotten entirely. About the comfortable domesticity that had somehow, impossibly, become her life.

  She was not thinking about Peacekeepers.

  So when she rounded the corner onto Yi's street and saw the figures gathered outside his door, it took her a moment to process what she was seeing.

  Dark uniforms. Silver trim. Rigid postures.

  Magnolia's blood turned to ice.

  She pulled Skippy into the shadow of a nearby alley before conscious thought could catch up with instinct. Her back pressed against the cool stone wall. Her hand clamped over Skippy's muzzle before he could bark a greeting to the strangers. Her heart hammered against her ribs like a trapped bird.

  Peacekeepers. At Yi's house. Why are there Peacekeepers at Yi's house?

  She risked a glance around the corner.

  Eight of them. No, ten. One was knocking on the door while the others stood in a loose semicircle, hands resting on their weapons with the readiness of people who expected trouble. Their faces were hard. Unsmiling. The kind of faces that never delivered good news.

  The door opened.

  Yi appeared in the frame, confusion evident in the furrow of his brow. Magnolia was too far away to hear what was being said, but she could see the exact moment the words hit him. Could see the color drain from his face. Could see his hand shoot out to grip the doorframe as though the ground had suddenly shifted beneath his feet.

  What are they telling him?

  Her stomach churned with a dread she couldn't name.

  And then one of the Peacekeepers stepped forward, and Magnolia's view was blocked.