The idea came to Lucien three nights later, in the quiet after another small, unremarkable loss—the exact date of their first kiss in the rain, gone now, though the memory of standing soaked and laughing together somehow remained, stubborn and strange in its half-preserved state.

"I want to record something," he said, watching Ezra's face carefully for the reaction he half-expected. "The way my mother did. A message, for whoever I am if this takes everything before we find her research."

Ezra went very still. "Lucien."

"I need you to understand why. Not because I'm giving up. Because if the worst happens—if I wake up one day and there's no...