“I’d like that. Can I see Arlet too?” Vega wanted to thank her and maybe give her a big hug—apologize for ever doubting her.

“Yeah, we can do that. She should be out of her meeting by the time we’re done getting you some food and finishing up the tour.” Khort came over with Vega’s boots, a clean pair of socks stuffed inside. “Here, this’ll help you warm up. You’ll get used to the colder temps down here again soon.”

“How long have I been here?” Vega asked, sitting back on the edge of the creaky bed while slipping into the beat-up boots she’d left Earth in.

“Almost four days,” Khort replied, watching her from the other side of the room. Vega felt herself heat up under his soft gaze. He stared at her like he was smitten, so full of love Vega could physically feel it. She broke their gaze to tie her boots, needing to refocus her attention elsewhere.

“Shit,” she muttered. “What have I missed?” Vega’s mind wandered to the men, to Bridger, and worried if she was still being actively hunted.

“Nothing that you need to worry about just yet,” Khort answered, reaching for a dark blue jacket on the back of a chair and handing it over to her. Vega didn’t question its size and let the blanket fall to the bed, slipping into the large jacket.

“I don’t like being kept in the dark for too long,” she warned.

He met her words with a little laugh, his nose scrunching. “Oh, I know, but my biggest concern right now is getting you some food. I don’t think talking to you about the things you can’t remember will be of any help to us or you.”

Vega agreed as her stomach rumbled. “Let me guess, fish is on the menu.”

Khort nodded, strutting to the door with a sympathetic smile. “Breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Your favorite.”

Vega had never liked fish, but at this point, she would eat a horse if it meant she could fill her stomach with something other than Doritos and gas station burritos. With the promise of a full stomach, Vega shuffled off the bed and followed Khort out of the safety of his room.

The hallways were narrow, doors lining up and down the cramped quarters. People slipped in and out of the rooms, nodding hellos to Khort. Vega couldn’t miss the way people stopped and stared at her—the shock on their faces and the murmurs now fluttering through the hall were unmistakable.

Vega locked eyes with a woman, her dull brown hair drenched in what she assumed was sweat. She’d been entering a room until her eyes met Vega’s, stopping her in her tracks to gawk in surprise. Vega noticed the suit the woman wore. It was similar to that of Bridger and the other man from the redwoods. Skintight, the fabric thick against her skin.

As they passed, the woman bowed her head, looking up through her lashes at Vega.

“Why are people staring?” Vega asked, speeding up her stride to position herself beside Khort instead of following close behind.

The smile on his face made her insides knot. “Because you’re the face of hope.”

Her memories failed her, and she was unable to wrap her head around why anyone would see her as anything more than a complete screw-up. In every memory she had of this life, nothing gave her the conception she was some savior who could help rid this land of Marlena and her tyranny.

Vega looked down as they passed another group of onlookers, afraid to see the same look in their eyes that she saw in the first woman.

A hand reached out, fingers grazing hers. Vega glanced over, catching Khort reaching out to offer her what little strength he could. Her eyes flicked up to him, his gaze still forward as they walked through the maze-like halls.

“Head up. They need you more than you need you.”

Vega listened, straightening her shoulders, looking ahead—forward. It was an act. She wanted to fall into herself, but she wasn’t allowed to fall apart.

Do not break down now. The words she’d always told herself started to feel more like something someone else had once told her… but who?

She’d been seen as weak for far too long. By herself, by Chase, by the people around her who constantly watched her fail. It was only the life on Earth she could remember and what few memories she’d been allowed to see, but Vega knew there were people in this world who doubted her too.

Would Tolevarre offer her the strength she needed?

“It’s Vega.”

“She’s back.”

“When did they find her?”

“Vega.”

Muttering words filled her head. Vega couldn’t look at them and wouldn’t dare connect to the hope they felt when they saw her.

How many times had this moment happened over the last fifty-five years? How many times had she let the people here down?