She remembered then, the name. The newsfeeds flashed through her thoughts—a girl running down palace steps, falling, landing in a heap on a gravel path.
Linh Cinder.
A teenager. A cyborg. A Lunar.
She gulped. So Levana had already found the girl. Found, but lost her again.
“It doesn’t matter,” she murmured, laying her head against her grandma’s chest. “It’s not our problem. I’m going to get you out of here. We’re going to get away.”
Her mind desperately searched for a way they could escape together. Something to use as a stretcher or a wheelchair or—
But there was nothing.
Nothing that could make it up the stairs. Nothing she could carry. Nothing her grandma could endure.
Her heart broke, the pain of it pushing a wail out of her throat.
She couldn’t leave her like this. She couldn’t let them hurt her anymore.
“My sweet girl.”
She clamped her eyes shut, pushing out two more hot tears. “Grand-mère, who is Logan Tanner?”
Her grandma brushed a light kiss against Scarlet’s forehead. “He’s a good man, Scarlet. He would have loved you. I hope you’ll meet him someday. Tell him hello for me. Tell him good-bye.”
A sob cut through Scarlet’s heart. Her grandma’s shirt was soaked through with her tears.
She couldn’t bring herself to tell her that Logan Tanner was dead. Had gone crazy. Had killed himself.
Her grandfather.
“I love you, Grand-mère. You’re everything to me.”
The heavy bandaged limbs stroked her knees. “I love you too. My brave, stubborn girl.”
She sniffed, and vowed to herself that she would stay until morning. She would stay forever. She wouldn’t abandon her. If her captors came back, they would find them together—kill them together if they must.
She would never leave her again.
The vow was made, the promise determined, when she heard footsteps echoing down the corridor.
Thirty-Nine
Hunkering down over her grandmother, Scarlet turned toward the hallway. Old wires hummed overhead and pale light flooded the cell. The door still stood open, the bars casting skeletal shadows along the floor.
Her eyes adjusted slowly. She held her breath, listening, but the footsteps had stopped. Still, someone was there. Someone was coming.
Her grandmother’s bandaged hand slipped into hers and she turned back. Her gut clamped. Streaks of dried blood were on the weathered face, her hair was tangled and matted. She was little more than a wasted skeleton now, though her brown eyes were still strong, still vibrant. Still filled with more love than was kept in all the rest of the world.
“Run,” she whispered.
Scarlet shook her head. “I’m not leaving you.”
“This is not your fight. Run, Scarlet. Now.”
Footsteps again, growing closer.
Clenching her jaw, Scarlet pulled herself onto shaking legs and faced the door. Her heart was galloping, waiting as the steps grew louder.