notice his eyes are shining. The lanterns’ light flickers over his face, making his features appear sharper than usual. The light accentuates the dark smudges under his eyes. His fingers tremble where they dig into my shoulders.
Despite myself, despite all that’s happened in the past several hours, my heart jerks. “It’s all right.” I put my hands over his and squeeze. “I’m okay. I’m right here.”
His hands keep shaking. “I know.”
“I thought you didn’t care.” My voice comes out so quietly I’m not certain he hears it.
However, he must, because he looks down at the space between us. Then he hugs me to him once more, and I try very hard not to flinch. When he speaks again, he’s crying. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I know I can’t take back what I’ve done, but please—give me a second chance. I want to make things right between us. I want us to be a family, the way a father and son should be. Please, stop fighting and putting your life in danger. Let’s go home—together.”
I should be happy. If it was the me from before this war, from before I met my teammates, I would’ve been elated. Nothing in this world would have made me gladder than to hear my father say those words.
Now, I can’t stop thinking about all the nights I was coldly brushed off by this man, so different a person now as he holds me closer, as though he’s trying to make up for my whole childhood during which he wouldn’t touch me. The four years after I joined the military, throughout which he never once contacted me. I think of Lai, who gave up everything for so many years to fight for what was important to her. Lai, kneeling, bleeding, dying.
Strangely, I remember too the time Lai and I walked back from the Order the night before we left for the rebels’ “peace negotiations,” the way she looked up at the sky far overhead, streetlights flickering softly over her face as her expression softened and she said she wanted to meet her mother again.
“Thank you,” I say. “But I’m sorry. I can’t go back with you.” I gently hold him away from me, and now that I can see his tears, this man who I can never once remember crying, my heart twists. However, I say, “I can’t run away from this fight. I won’t run from it. We’ve already lost so much; I refuse to let those sacrifices be in vain. No matter what it takes, we’ll end this war. Until that happens, I’ll keep fighting.”
Purpose swells within me and grows with every heartbeat as I look at my father. He watches me back. For the first time in my life, it doesn’t feel like a match of wills.
Finally, he sighs. “I can see that I won’t convince you otherwise. You’re more stubborn than I thought—just like your mother.” He smiles slightly to himself. “If that’s the case, then all I ask is that you be safe.” He looks me in the eyes and takes my hands in his. “I mean what I said about becoming a real family. After all this is over, I’ll be waiting for you. So please, please come back.”
“I will.” A knot catches in my throat as I say the words, because I know better than to promise such a thing during a war.
My father reluctantly lets go of my hands. I glance at everyone still around us, and he understands. He gives me one last hug that I stiffly allow. Then he takes his leave.
People continue to rush by us into the infirmary, and I catch the whispers of those not too distracted by injuries or wounded friends. The Order’s remaining leaders, all falling apart right here in the hall. Everyone knows by now that Lai is Walker and that she’s critically injured, that Seung is dead—and now Clemente, Peter, and Syon, the last three core leaders, are struggling to keep themselves together. What would Lai say if she were here right now?
I take a deep breath as I turn to face my friends. Peter still holds Syon to him as though he’ll never let go. Syon’s face is buried in Peter’s shoulder. My heart aches just watching them. I don’t know if I can do this. I don’t know if I have any right to.
I take a heartbeat to gather my resolve. I have to hold it all in a single point in my chest for fear