Page 167 of The Last Hope
“Did Stork tell you her name?” I ask Zimmer.
Stork wipes sweat off his brow. “I left that part for you, dove.”
Zimmer meets my gaze with a deep frown. “What’s special about her name?”
“In the future,” I tell him, my heart swelling. “We named her Zima.”
Zimmer’s eyes glass and he wears the largest grin I’ve ever seen. One that dimples his cheeks and fills me whole.
Even in the future, however much time passed since Zimmer died, we loved him enough to name our daughter after him.
That means something.
A tear slides down his cheek. “Never thought for a single day that I’d have a legacy,” he whispers. “Those are for Influentials, you know.”
I know.
I nod strongly and he wipes at his cheeks. “Also, what gods-forsaken reason could you have not just called her Zimmer? It’s a better name.”
We laugh and cry and I do something I shouldn’t do. Something so irrational that no one ever thinks it.
I still don’t know the day Zimmer will die, but I pray to the gods to give him more time.
FORTY-ONE
Court
An hour passes and the crew still haven’t left the landing port. I fear they’re never going to leave.
But I’m trying not to think that way. Because if this is truly the last few hours I have with Mykal, I won’t spend them horribly focused on surviving. I’ve survived enough.
I just want to start living again.
He makes a silly face at the baby, and she quietly blows spit bubbles at him. Mykal glances up to meet my gaze. We simply look at one another for a long moment. Sharing emotions, passing them back and forth.
Love flows between us like a featherlight wind. Soft. Tender. And then strong all at once. He smiles into a crooked grin and whispers, “For as long as we live, never stop looking at me that way.”
“I’ll never stop,” I promise.
He leans forward and cups the back of my head. Our lips find each other in a kiss. When we break apart, I spot my brother nodding from the other side of the room. Alone. He’s kept his eyes on the windshield all night, waiting for the perfect moment to leave.
“Go.” Mykal nudges me forward.
I cradle the baby in my arms as I leave, not wanting to pass her along and risk her crying.
When I reach Kinden’s side, he shifts his gaze off the windshield. I sit beside him and tell him something I should have saidlong ago. “Thank you,” I breathe. “For staying by my side. All this time.”
He wears a rich smile. “There is no better way to spend my long life.” He stares at me like he can see right through me. He used to do that when we were young.
I wait for his unbridled honesty. I yearn for it.
After he places a hand on my shoulder, he says, “I don’t think they’re going to break you anymore, little brother.”
Tears gather. In both our eyes.
“They won’t,” I agree. There’s strength deep inside me. I’ve been trying to reach it for so long, and I’m finally grasping it. Pulling it free.
Finding a place for myself in this world.
