Page 118 of The Towering Sky
She cried for Avery, the sister she had chosen, and Eris, the sister she hadn’t known until too late. Leda’s two sisters: her blood sister and the sister of her heart, now both lost to her for good. How would she go on living without them?
She’d hoped that by confessing to the police, she could wipe away her guilt. But Avery had beaten her to it. Avery had given herself up for Leda in a drastic act of self-sacrifice, the kind of sacrifice you could never take back.
The only way Leda could ever hope to deserve that sacrifice was to do better in the future than she had in the past.
She was intimately familiar with all her bad deeds, every last machination and manipulation and scheme. They were inscribed indelibly upon her heart.
But maybe her good deeds were there too, she thought, no matter how outnumbered they might be. Her love for her family and friends—and for Watt.
Maybe if Leda tried hard enough, if she worked at being patient and thoughtful and curious and kind, her good deeds might eventually outweigh the bad. Maybe then, someday, she would actually be worthy of this tremendous gift Avery had given her.
CALLIOPE
CALLIOPE GLANCED AROUNDthe Nuage bar without seeming to turn her head, a skill she had mastered long ago. A lightly foamed macchiato sat on the counter before her, untouched. Various young men and women in suits were starting to file in, for business breakfasts or a quick coffee. More than one of them had cast her a tentative, curious look. Easy targets, if she was looking to pick up a mark. Which she wasn’t.
Truthfully, Calliope had come here because a hotel bar was one of the easiest places to go when you were alone and uncertain of your next move. Safe, neutral, undemanding. Like a foreign embassy, she remembered joking to Brice.
There was something soothing about being at the bar this early, when everything was still cool and shining, the bottles lined up just so. It was a little slice of quiet between the loud nighttime hours and the bustle of midday.
Calliope felt adrift in a way she hadn’t in years. There wasnothing tying her to anyone anymore, really. Her luggage was all stacked behind the Nuage’s front desk, except for her pouch of jewelry, which was folded securely in her crossbody purse. She could cut and run, melt away into the city—duck into any public park or corner bodega or department store—and not a soul would know where she was. It was a curious feeling.
She sighed and gave a few commands to her contacts, flipping over to the feeds, and gasped aloud. The headlines drove all thoughts of herself and her current situation from her head. Somehow Avery Fuller’s secret had gotten out, and the world knew about her and Atlas.
In retaliation, Avery had burned down her family’s apartment—the entire thousandth floor—while she was still inside.
Calliope felt strangely numb at the news. She couldn’t believe that the world no longer contained Avery Fuller. Avery, who’d been many things to her: a stranger, an obstacle, and ultimately, something approaching a friend. Bright, effervescent Avery, with her ready smile and her sunshine hair, who literally lived on top of the world. She would never have guessed that a girl like that would do something so irrevocably drastic. But then, Calliope knew better than anyone that you could never tell what people were hiding, behind the facade they presented to the world.
She curled her palms around the coffee mug for the warmth, wondering at what a strange thing love was. It could make you feel invincible, and then a moment later it could utterly destroy you. Calliope thought of Avery and Atlas, trapped in an impossible situation. She thought of her mom and Nadav. Would they have had a shot, if they had met in a completely different context?
Calliope wondered where Elise was right now. Already she must have ditched her contacts, disconnecting from everythingas if she’d vanished from the world in a puff of smoke. Just like Avery.
“I thought I might find you here.”
Brice slid onto the seat next to her. Calliope’s pulse suddenly echoed through her body, all the way to her fingertips. He looked different today, but maybe that was simply the fact that she had mentally given him up, only to discover that he was hers again after all. Or was he?
One thing was for certain. After what she’d seen between her mom and Nadav, Calliope knew that she had to tell Brice the truth. He deserved that from her.
“I’m not what you think I am.”
“I had no idea you’d started reading my thoughts,” Brice remarked and waved for a coffee. “What is it that I think you are, aside from beautiful and unpredictable?”
Calliope let out a breath. “I’m not...”
She trailed off, uncertain how to continue.Not nice? Not a good person?“My name isn’t Calliope.”
Brice didn’t even flinch. “I know.”
“What? How—”
“I’m a little offended that you don’t remember our first meeting, on the beach in Singapore. Back when you called yourself Gemma.”
“You remember that?” How long had she feared that Brice might make that connection—and yet here he was, saying he’d known all along, and he didn’t seem upset. A beam of light seemed to fall through Calliope’s worry, to touch something hopeful and tentative within her.
“Of course I remember,” he replied. “You’re unforgettable.”
“Why didn’t you say anything, if you knew?”
“For two reasons. First, because Idon’ttotally know. I’m still not sure why you and your mom have been skipping aroundthe world changing your names. I have my theories,” he said, in answer to the worried look on her face, “but now isn’t the time to discuss them.”
