Hidden by Sophie Jordan

like she’s lost her mind.
    Lia shrugs one bone-thin shoulder as if it were obvious. “Going home.” Her blue-black eyes lock on mine. Kicking free of her too-big shorts, she folds her clothes into a tight bundle, tying the sleeves of her shirt together so nothing escapes, creating a sort of handle.
    Facing me, she squares her shoulders. “Thank you. You saved my life. I’ll never forget that. Or you.”
    “Are you sure?” I ask, worry for her knotting my chest. “Do you know how to—”
    “I know my way home.”
    Again, I try. She’s so young. It doesn’t feel right to let her go off alone. “But you can’t fly during the day. What will you—”
    “I’ll lie low in daylight. It shouldn’t take me long to get home. A couple days. I’ll be fine.” She smiles confidently, and I realize she isn’t a child. Not anymore. Who could be after living as a captive of the enkros?
    And I know she’ll be fine. She’s a water draki. She’ll never stray too far from a water source. It will offer her protection if she needs it. For a brief moment, I think to suggest she stay with us, but what can we offer her except risk and instability? She’s probably better anywhere else.
    “Good-bye, Lia,” I say. “Take care.”
    “Oh, I will. The rest of my life will be very dull, I promise you that.”
    I smile a little. “That does sound like heaven.”
    She surprises me with a quick hug before turning and walking a few steps, her human exterior melting away as she manifests into the deep blue of a water draki. Then she’s gone, springing up into the night. I watch the dark gleaming blue of her body until it’s indistinguishable against the night sky.
    Watching her go is another weight, a bit more added grief, knowing that I’ll never see her again—never know for certain if she made it home and claimed that dull life for herself.
    “C’mon, Miram,” Tamra says gently. “Let’s unroll these sleeping bags.” My sister glances at Will. “Got any food?”
    He nods and turns back to the van.
    The mention of food makes my stomach growl, but my weariness wins out. I move my heavy limbs. Dropping down, I unroll my sleeping blankets and slide inside, feeling the need to do something to get away … even if it’s pretend sleep. Facing Will right now, telling him what’s in my heart—or rather what’s not, what’s dead and lost—that’s simply too much.
    Only I don’t end up pretending. The moment my head hits the ground exhaustion takes hold and I’m gone.
    I wake abruptly, every nerve in my body wired tight. A strange sense of exhilaration hums through me. I sit up, the plastic-slick fabric of my sleeping bag sliding to my waist with a scratchy whisper.
    I scan the area around me. Miram and Tamra sleep nearby. For a moment I admire the flow of my sister’s hair, a silvery waterfall spilling across the ground. I’ve gotten used to the sight of it. I no longer think of her as the new Tamra. She’s simply Tamra. My sister. A relieved breath shudders past my lips. At least I haven’t lost her.
    And you still have Will .
    At this reminder, my gaze crawls, searching for him.
    I find him. Watching me. He sits with his back to a tree, one leg bent so that his arm drapes over his knee. I can almost believe he’s been waiting for me to wake.
    I sit up a little straighter. “Will.”
    The soft sound of my voice jars in the dead quiet of the wood. I glance at the sleeping girls, worried I woke them. They don’t move.
    “Why are you awake?” I ask.
    “Just sitting over here thinking.”
    I lick my lips. “About what?”
    He stares at me for a long minute across the distance, his hazel eyes nothing more than two dark gleams. “About how you will always wonder if I wanted to leave him behind.”
    My breath catches and it takes me a moment to respond. When I do, I’m glad at the steadiness of my voice. “Did you?” I ask, even though I don’t suspect for a moment that he did. That’s not Will.
    He shakes his