Naomi’s Pov

There’s a strange kind of tiredness that comes from not sleeping because you’re afraid of what you’ll dream. I’d been living in that kind of tiredness for weeks, the kind that makes your bones ache and your thoughts splinter. The base felt like a place of borrowed time; everyone moved like they were pretending nothing would change tomorrow.

I woke up with the taste of metal in my mouth. Not blood, just the metallic tang that memories leave behind. I made coffee because the motion steadied me: grind, scoop, water, wait. The simple things hold you together when everything else wants to fall apart.

Cassian wasn’t in the...