Chapter 13 — Empty Skies

The clouds hung thick in the sky that Tuesday morning. It was probably going to rain, based on the color. Nothing special, just a typical autumn shower in the stop-and-go style brought on by the winds. Everyone was inside, or if they weren't, hoods were going up, coats zipping tight. No umbrellas, of course, unless it was a tourist who didn't know better. The world continued despite the incoming downpour, refusing to let it affect anyone's day, to allow the chaos of nature a chance to disrupt orderly human life.

My life was anything but orderly.

How could I focus on school, with what I knew? Reylon was missing, possibly dead. Rana was gone too, for reasons unknown. I was probably connected to both disappearances. My instincts screamed at me to get out there, find Rana, save her somehow. The craziest plans in my head involved grabbing Robin, telling him what happened and deliberately starting a duel on the Rapids again, hoping we could somehow find the pair alive and well inside.

Insane and impossible, obviously, but what was I supposed to do? I didn't have a clue where they might be. It was the middle of class, and I was stuck in a school that wasn't going to just let me leave. I was too important and tragic to be misplaced. Worse, my grades couldn't take an absence. Carolyn was giving me the benefit of the doubt, but I knew both her and Lloyd expected me to do better.

As much as I wanted to bolt out of the school, I had to do the work.

Of course, the moment I had an opportunity, I texted Rana. Three unanswered texts, plus an unanswered call, before I felt I couldn't risk any more. By the time lunch rolled around, the adrenaline was wearing thin. My exhaustion seeped back in full. On the way to the cafeteria, I bought two energy drinks, already beginning to chug one down as I fell onto the bench next to Kyla.

"Jeez, what were you up to last night?" asked Kyla, raising an eyebrow. She scooted closer, and I leaned on her for support as I took another deep draw from the drink. "Got some, I hope."

"Didn't sleep." I pulled out my lunch and started eating. The caffeine wasn't enough on its own, I needed calories too. Anything to keep me moving. "Something's wrong."

"...Oooookay, Miss Cryptic," said Kyla, when I didn't elaborate.

I'd meant to, but I was busy getting an infusion of caffeine through my stomach, and it was jumbling my thoughts in every direction. Kyla took the occasional bite of her own food, but I could tell she was seriously worried about me. Not in the joking way either—she was afraid. She'd picked up my own fear. It spread like a horrible infection.

"It's me, Noël," said Kyla quietly. "What's going on?"

"I think something happened to Rana," I murmured, worried someone might overhear. This was dangerous territory. I knew full well what could happen when someone heard the wrong thing and ran with it. "Almost sure of it."

"No chance you're gonna tell me how you know that?" asked Kyla, frowning.

I shook my head.

She nodded. "...Gotcha. Okay, so what do we do about it?"

"We need to find her," I said, doing the best to keep my panic suppressed. The caffeine definitely wasn't helping in the dissembling department. "As soon as possible."

"Hate to break it to you," said Kyla, munching on a fry, "but you sure as hell can't afford to miss Strama's class again. You'll flunk fall term."

"I don't care," I snapped, louder than I meant to. A few heads turned our way, but as both Kyla and I remained silent, they quickly lost interest. As soon as they did, I dropped my voice again. "This is more important."

"Is leaving now going to make a difference compared to two hours from now?"

I hesitated. My heart screamed yes, but consciously, I knew I didn't have a clue what was going on. Rana might even be totally fine and just out sick. Kyla was right, for reasons she didn't even know. I needed to keep my grades up if I wanted to keep my freedom for League games… and beyond that, because I knew my parents wouldn't be happy if I was failing school.

"...Okay," I said finally.

"The moment school ends," said Kyla firmly. She pulled out her beat-up phone and began typing. "I'll see if I can find anything out while you're in your last class, okay?"

"Thanks." I hugged her.

Kyla rolled her eyes, but her smile was genuine. "Yeah yeah, I'm the best. Eat, you can't search the city on an empty stomach."

As I forced bites into my mouth, not tasting a lick of Mr. Hauk's leftovers, Kyla rummaged through her bag. She pulled out a notebook and passed it over. I raised my eyebrows.

"My notes from Physics," said Kyla, nodding. "Because I know for sure you're sleeping through that class."

I couldn't bring myself to deny it, so I just kept trying to eat. A wave of gratitude for Kyla rushed through me. I was a good study, and Kyla took good notes, just like with the game dominating my every waking thought. She'd support me through school just like she did in the League, helping me without a second thought and without even knowing why I needed it so much.

The moment I could tell her why all this was happening, I would. She deserved the truth.

English was not easy to stay awake through. I loved reading, and I enjoyed some classic lit, but not in my current mood. It was real difficult to get invested in the great American authors of the 1800s when I kept having horrible visions of Rana.

What if Norad killed her?

I drove the fears out as best I could. No matter what I imagined, I hadn't actually seen Cynthia shoot Reylon. The gunshot could have been anything. We'd been chased by soldiers with a massive arsenal. I could even have imagined it. Maybe it came from the real world—gunshots were rare in Portland, especially after the buyback programs, but not unheard of.

Except I'd definitely heard it, definitely seen it. The fears couldn't be driven out so easily. Reylon's duelist turned on him, and now he was missing.

The bell rang and I jerked awake. Mrs. Strama hadn't noticed me sleeping, to my relief. I bolted out the door and was out of the school in minutes, where I broke into an outright run. No time to waste, with still no response from Rana. As I came up on Drizzle, Kyla heard the sound of my feet slapping the pavement. She leapt to her feet as I nearly skidded to a halt.

"Any word?" I asked, breathless.

Kyla shook her head. "Asked around, texted a couple people I know. Nobody's seen her."

The weight in my stomach continued to grow, minute by minute. I turned down a random street. No direction in mind, I just had to keep moving. "So we go looking."

"Hang on there, supergirl," said Kyla, eyebrows raised. She put a hand on my shoulder. "Geez, I can feel your heartbeat from here. You're dead on your feet and your body is not keeping up."

"I know what I can handle," I said stubbornly. "I'm not giving up—"

"Who said giving up?" Kyla shook her head. "Time to be smart, Noël. Where would she be?"

It took a couple minutes of persuasion, but Kyla calmed me down another few notches. We headed out together—first to the parking garage, as the nearest place where we knew Rana spent time. I doubted she'd be there, but it wasn't out of the way from my best guess, and who knew? What if she were trapped in a League match and I'd find her glassy-eyed at the card table?

No such luck. Reylon's cards were still scattered across it, all except Cynthia. I glanced at my bag, where she still sat from yesterday.

"Someone was playing Riposte down here…?" asked Kyla dubiously. "Wild."

I didn't comment, and to my relief, Kyla didn't pursue it. Instead, we headed into the nearest park, and to the nearest one after that. It was a tour of everywhere Rana and I had gone on our brief getaways, the duels and the snatched moments between them. We bounced from park to bookstore, rooftop to library, café to back-alley. Even made a fruitless pass by Rana's home, surrounded by a circus of police and press parasites.

Noël...

The sun was dropping low. Shadows began to swallow up the streets. My phone still refused to give me any sign of my girlfriend. Out of desperation, I texted the Moderator, with as little result as Rana's number. As the streets emptied, the day winding down and the office drones heading back to their nests, I knew my own body couldn't take much more. My legs were on fire, my arms like lead weights. Everything felt so slow, pushing through the heavy curtain of lethargy just to take each step forward.

Noël, you need to rest. You're gonna kill yourself.

I couldn't stop. Rana had to be out there. I couldn't see the sun anymore, couldn't see the stars either through the streetlights and tree branches above us, but I could feel her somewhere. Her light was gone, but I'd find a way to reignite it.

"Noël!"

My addled brain hadn't realized the voice wasn't in my head. Kyla was shouting at me.

I came to on a park bench, staring straight up into the sky. My head hurt like crazy. Kyla was panting, and I saw my scarf on the ground behind her. The imagery in my head was still draining away. I couldn't tell how much I'd dreamed and how much was exhausted truth.

"...Did you carry me here?" I mumbled.

"Yeah," said Kyla. She picked up my scarf, then collapsed on the bench next to my head, catching her breath. "You walked into a pole."

"I what?"

Kyla rolled her eyes. "Seriously. Couldn't get a word out of you til now. We're taking a break, whether you like it or not."

"But—"

"Break, grasshopper." Kyla scooted over.

Reluctantly, I allowed her to lift my head up onto her lap. She draped my jacket, then my scarf over me to keep out the night chill. I was too exhausted to resist. In less than a minute, I was already drifting off. Kyla said something else, but I didn't hear it. I had a vague sense of her moving around as I drifted back into nightmares.

I was back on the same raft, except I wasn't dueling. It was Rana and Norad against the Enforcer. There were no cards, just the two fighting to the vicious bitter end. The Enforcer won, a crack of a spiked whip taking Norad to the deck. As the Enforcer's lip curled into a horrible smile, Norad turned and raised his laser pistol. A bright flash reflected in Rana's horrified eyes, a split second before she—

"Don't shoot! Stop! Rana!"

My entire head jerked straight up as I shouted out her name. I nearly ran it straight into Kyla's hands above me. She would have jumped had I not still been laying on her lap, but her phone was not so inhibited. It clattered to the pavement, adding another few scratches to its beaten face.

Kyla's hand fell on my chest, pushing me back down. "Noël, chill," she murmured.

I took a second to get my bearings. It was dusk, the sun totally gone and only the drifting clouds above us as night approached in full. I could barely make out Kyla's face, backlit by a street lamp above her, but I could tell something was wrong. Her expression had totally changed. She wasn't a concerned friend anymore… she was grave.

"...What happened?" I whispered, terrified of the answer.

Kyla shook her head. "Breathe for a sec. You were thrashing in your sleep. Punched the damn bench more than once," she added, nodding to my knuckles. I'd left imprints on the inside of my palm from my nails digging in.

"I need to know."

After a few very long seconds, she sighed. "Gimme your phone, since you decided to throw mine way over there."

I unlocked it and passed it up. Kyla typed in a search and pulled up a news story before handing it back to me. There were two photos side-by-side: a glory-shot of Reylon at a football game, and an out-of-focus picture of Rana in a library. I wondered who snapped the photo… She looked really nice. It took three or four tries before I could get my eyes to focus on the headline. As soon as it came into focus, my heart stopped.

VARSITY FOOTBALL STAR ACCUSED OF SEXUAL ASSAULT, BATTERY

"No," I gasped.

Kyla nodded, her expression clear as my head began to spin. She gestured to the phone, and I forced myself to read onward.

Tuesday November 9th, 2032

PORTLAND - A search is underway for Reylon Young (18, left), a senior at Le Guin High School. Young allegedly sexually assaulted and beat fellow student Rana el-Yassin (18, right) Monday night, according to an eyewitness account. Both students are missing, and a warrant has been issued for Young's arrest. Any information about their whereabouts should be reported to police immediately.

I shook my head. "I can't… why—"

"Keep reading," said Kyla grimly.

Details of the assault remain vague, but sources attribute Reylon's motivations to sexual frustration and homophobia. The witness, whose name has been withheld by request of the Portland Police Bureau, confirmed that Young accused el-Yassin of being homosexual, and attacked on her response. The Bureau confirmed it intends to pursue this incident as a hate crime.

'He called her a lesbian," said the witness. "Shouted it at her like she was scum. I didn't hear what she said, but I don't think he cared either way. He was all over her in a second.'

Young fled the scene as police arrived. El-Yassin was treated at the scene, but fled before investigators were able to question her. El-Yassin's and Young's parents have each declined to comment on the story. Both students' current whereabouts are unknown.

The story went on, quoting classmates and teachers, but my eyes were too blurry to read further. I swore, as loud as I could. All fatigue had evaporated from my body, replaced by white hot fury, a blind rage boiling across my skin. I started to throw my phone away, but Kyla snatched it from my fingers.

"There's nothing you can—"

"The hell there isn't," I growled, trying to get up.

Kyla grabbed my shoulders and pushed me back down. "The cops are out for them both. They'll find him."

"He didn't—" I cut off, as an even worse fear shot through my skull like a bullet.

What if…

No. It hadn't happened. It couldn't. This was a horrible, sick joke, a twisted nightmare thrust into reality by the League. It didn't matter what had really happened. I knew as well as anyone what happened when the news got ahold of something, how far the story would spread. More importantly, who it had already spread to.

No matter what happened next or how things played out, her parents already knew.

"We need to go," I said, forcing myself to stay calm. To my relief, it worked, as Kyla released the pressure on my shoulders..

"Where?" she asked.

"Rana's house."

***

She'd told me where she lived, even though I never expected to visit in a million years. It was more about the League than about our relationship. If Rana were ever to disappear, to fall in another world, I'd be the one to deliver the news. Every one of us had someone like that, every player knew the risks and made the contingency. None of us would die in the dark.

I felt like I was fulfilling my promise as I approached her home. Kyla seemed reluctant, but I insisted she come along with me. I figured two of us were better than one, if we were going to face up with Rana's parents. It wasn't that I expected them to be harsh or violent—by all accounts, they were perfectly lovely people in most respects—but that night? With everything going on?

It was emotional safety as much as physical. I was afraid to be alone.

Rana's parents owned a two-story home plopped in the middle of a busy street. It was a nice place, with a wide walled garden and a stone path leading up to their door. To my relief, the police and press surrounding the place earlier were long-gone. We spied it out for a good twenty minutes just in case, looking for anyone sitting on the place. Kyla didn't have a clue why, but didn't ask either. I pushed the gate aside and walked straight forward, Kyla a cautious half-step behind.

She had to be here. She was just avoiding the police and the publicity. After all the stories I'd told her about my aftermath, it made the most sense. I wish I'd had a home to hide in. My own tragedy didn't allow for any escape. Then again… if she was here, it might not be any kind of escape. Her home could be a prison.

I grit my teeth as I knocked on the door. One way or another, I was making sure Rana was safe tonight.

It took another knock before someone finally showed up. As the door swung open, I stared through the mesh eye-to-eye with Rana's father. I'd heard many tales about him, about his genial laugh and his good nature, his love of cooking and his terrible storytelling. Rana loved him. I resented him.

One glance told me everything, but I refused to believe it.

His eyes were bloodshot, his face puffy and red. Her father had been weeping, and as the sounds of wailing echoed from inside the house, I realized he wasn't alone.

"What do you want?" he mumbled, less angry than exhausted and frustrated. I knew that tone far too well.

"We're looking for Rana," I said, doing my best to keep an even tone. I had my own set of panic, fear, rage, and so many other emotions to keep buried. Not one of them would help this situation. "She wasn't at school today."

He shook his head. "Not here."

My heart sank, even though I had known it was coming the moment I saw him. "Do you know—"

"Never here again."

The man turned away, but I wasn't about to let that stand. "What is wrong with you?" I growled.

"Noël…" murmured Kyla behind me.

Rana's dad stopped, looked back at me. "You do not know anything," he said, still in that same exhausted tone. "I can't help you. Please go away. Go talk to the police."

"Your daughter's out there!" I shouted. I grabbed at the screen door, but it wouldn't budge. The man started to turn away again, the door began to swing closed, but I wouldn't let up. "Rana needs you! Do something!"

Not a word in reply. The door slammed shut, and a deadbolt clicked. We were locked out. Rana was locked out. The el-Yassin home was dark, practically a gravestone in the dark night enveloping us. Her family had just declared her dead.

I wasn't about to let that come true.

"Let's go," I muttered, turning around and stomping back out to the street. "There's still more places to check."

There weren't, not really, but I didn't want to think about that. Rana and I had only been together for a month, and so far, I'd visited every single place we'd ever been, and all the places I could conceive she might be. We even went by the Question, locked up and empty as it might be. There wasn't a sign of her to be found.

My exhaustion seeped back in as the night stretched out, like a cat spreading its legs before curling up to sleep. I couldn't keep my eyes open wide, even though I was desperately searching every shadow cast by the lights around us. The city night life was beginning, that unfamiliar world where the city flipped on its head until daybreak, and I knew we didn't have much longer.

As much as I hated myself for it, I couldn't keep going. My legs gave way, and I fell to the concrete.

Kyla helped me up and to the nearest bench. I leaned against the wall, eyelids like heavy curtains draped on my shoulders. Kyla took my hand and used it to unlock my phone, before sending a message to Carolyn. She'd come pick us up and give us a ride. Until she arrived, I welcomed sleep. My eyes slid closed, despite the harsh glare of the street light above.

A jerk as the car pulled up. Kyla manhandled me into the back seat and pulled the door closed. I was a bit more awake thanks to the nap, but I still didn't sit up. My head fell right back onto Kyla's lap. I needed the physical connection, the reminder that there was still warmth in the world when everything else felt like ice.

"Hi, Carolyn," I murmured.

"Long night?" she asked, a bit too upbeat. Kyla shook her head, and Carolyn's face snapped to neutral in an instant. "Where to, Noël?"

I didn't answer. My mind was adrift. Not racing, but not the lost void of exhaustion either. Images floated in and out, like I were twirling down an endless twisting river. Here, Rana and I were in the park. There, Rana's father shut us out. So many painful moments mixed with so many beautiful ones, and all I wanted was her.

"Home please, ma'am," said Kyla, when I hadn't replied for a full minute.

"Yours, or—"

"Lloyd's," she said, glancing at me. My eyes slid closed as they kept talking. I didn't want to look at anything. The tears were starting to form, and I didn't want to see their reactions. "We gotta get our girl to bed."

"I'm sorry, we haven't had the pleasure."

"Kyla Wick, ma'am."

"An honor to meet you, Miss Wick."

"So they tell me." Kyla's voice lifted a bit, and Carolyn gave her a polite laugh. "Nice ride."

"Noël's, in fact."

"Nicest rich girl I've ever met."

Carolyn paused as the car twisted around a tight curve. "I wouldn't call her rich. She's a girl who happens to have wealth."

"Ah, that explains it." Kyla's hand fell to my head. She brushed the hair from my face. "No wonder I like her."

"I hope you didn't get her into too much trouble. She's very important to us."

"No trouble, ma'am."

"Am I taking you home first?"

I felt Kyla shake her head above me. "Not stepping out of this car til I know my girl's home in bed, ma'am."

A few seconds later, I heard the faint hum of the privacy screen going up. It wasn't necessary—as with Rana, I didn't have any reluctance talking to Kyla in front of Carolyn. Then again… Kyla was oddly stiff and formal with her, not like I'd seen before. Probably better for Kyla that we got some alone time.

Probably better for me, too… the despair was starting to settle in, now that I'd run out of places to go or people to check. I pulled out my phone and sent yet another text to Rana. I love you. Please let me know you're safe. Who cared how often we spoke now, or what language we used? The word was out, and a piece of my life had been cut away. Every thought, no matter how mundane, was dominated by lurking dread.

"She's out there somewhere," murmured Kyla. Her hand ran through my hair again, and the tears began to flow free from my eyes. "Rana's smart, she can take care of herself."

"Except from the guy she trusted most," I forced out between sniffles. I had no idea if it was true or not—my mind was already beginning to suspect some involvement from the League, how could I not?—but the effect was the same. "I wasn't there."

"You can't always be around."

"I love her, Kyla," I whispered. "And she loves me."

Kyla took a few seconds, still stroking my hair, but uncharacteristically silent. "...Were you together?"

"Yes," I replied, and a weight lifted off my shoulders. It didn't dissipate the despair in the slightest, and I felt like I might cry even more, but finally, a secret I didn't have to keep anymore. "For over a month now."

"No wonder you've been so much happier lately," said Kyla, and I could hear the smile in her voice. "I'm glad you found each other."

"But now she's—"

"Out there somewhere, and we're gonna find her," she said firmly. Her hand patted my head. "And you'll give her that big sloppy reunion kiss that I'll both love and be a little grossed out by, and I'll help you two have the best relationship ever, and someday I'll be your maid of honor at your wedding, which I'll pay for with the enormous fortune from my designer scarf line."

My eyes opened and I twisted around to look up at her. "Scarves?" I asked, choking back a half-sob, half-laugh.

"Zero effort to design a scarf, it's basically a rectangle with some art slapped on. Maybe some tassels or something." Kyla grinned. "Plus I can expand into those head-scarf thingies and design some stuff just for your girl."

"Hijab."

"Yeah." Kyla resumed her petting. It worked, too, to calm me down. I wasn't sobbing openly, even if the despair hadn't budged an inch. At least I wasn't alone. Unlike Rana… wherever she was. Oh god… Nobody knew about us, barely anyone even knew we were friends. Would anyone contact me? I'd be out in the dark, if not for the League.

Huge secrets complicating my life. Once upon a time, my life had been so public, the world seemed to know my own story better than I did. How the tables turned.

"I'm sorry," I whispered.

"For what?"

"Lying to you."

Kyla sighed and shook her head. "Nuh-uh. This is the super-rare exception where lying to your bestie is okay. No apologies allowed."

"I hid that I was even in a relationship—"

"Dude, that was obvious," said Kyla, laughing a little. It was friendly, and made me feel a bit better yet again. "I figured I'd meet the lucky girl someday. You're not as good at hiding things as you think you are."

I rolled my eyes. "Good enough to beat you nine times out of ten."

Kyla laughed more, and soon enough I was back to some level of functional. We managed a friendly chat for the rest of the ride. Carolyn took me back first, as promised, and Kyla walked me straight up to the front door. She made a big point of being unimpressed with how huge the place was, but I could see her ogling out of the corner of her eye.

I watched her leave from the foyer, grateful for her friendship, for her understanding and support. Yeah, I felt some guilt for still lying to her about the League, but what could I do? It was against the rules to reveal it unless I wanted to bring her in. After today? Hell if I was considering inviting anybody. If I didn't still have my wish hanging on the horizon, I'd consider quitting myself.

My dream waited, and now I had even more reason to fight. Rana's parents might not accept her, but mine would. I had to believe it.

***

I knew it was coming, but school still hurt the next day.

All day, they couldn't stop tittering on about the big drama. Even teachers seemed reluctant to suppress it. I heard a few talking about it themselves in the hall. Weren't they supposed to be professional, get us to focus on school? I'd never been more interested in classwork in my life. Anything to take my mind off my silent phone. Instead, I endured the whispers, the rumor mongering, the tasteless jokes and awful speculation. Worst of all, the stuck-up bigots in the bathrooms, who spoke in stage whispers about how "the dyke deserved it".

If I were a violent person, there might have been another assault charge on a Le Guin High student that afternoon.

I endured class as best I could. CS was its own miniature nightmare, as Rana's absence in our group caused us to be the center of attention once again. Now the whispers returned to me, accusing me of being a curse, or of somehow influencing Rana into this situation. After all, I "ran with that crowd", though of course they'd never specify what crowd they meant. It might have been too much, if not for Kyla.

She shut them down, hard. I've never heard someone spit that much fire in the middle of a classroom. Even our teacher stood speechless, too nervous to throw her out like he probably should have. What was he gonna do though? Kyla was confronting bullies and bigots, and wasn't that to be praised at school? Didn't they give big speeches and hold assemblies about that?

Is my cynicism bleeding through too much?

After school, it finally happened. Kyla and I were gearing up for another day of searching. I could tell she thought it was pointless, but she never said a word. We planned our route, more parks mixed in with mosques we heard were more accepting. More than we could cover in a day, but damned if I wasn't going to try. As I pulled out my phone to summon Carolyn, it buzzed. And kept buzzing.

A phone call, labelled "City of Portland".

My heart stopped. An official call from the city? Would this be a coroner calling me to say she was dead? A detective telling me I was a major suspect in her disappearance? Summons to appear in court and be thrown in jail for life, for a crime I didn't commit but might be culpable of nonetheless?

I was frozen. Kyla reached down and answered it for me.

"...Hello?"

My phone slammed into my head, I'd moved it so fast. "Rana?"

"Hi Noël."

She'd been crying. Her voice was hoarse, raw, and dripping with regret. I hated every syllable, every phoneme and morpheme through her lips even as I never wanted her to stop talking. "Are you safe?"

"Yes." A sniffle. Rana was crying now, not earlier. "I'm so sorry… I didn't have my phone, I couldn't—"

"Where are you? How are you calling now?"

"At a city phone. They still have some of those, you know."

Her weak attempt at levity gave Kyla a vague smile, but I couldn't. Not today. "I looked for you all day. Were you in the hospi—"

"Reylon never touched me," said Rana firmly, cutting me off.

"...But—"

Kyla sighed. "Noël, you of all people should know better than to believe the news."

"Kyla?" asked Rana.

"In the flesh. Also on the adventure to find Noël's missing girlfriend here. She's been dying of worry."

"I'm so sorry… we would have told y—"

"Yeah, yeah, you guys had a great reason and I'm not offended," said Kyla impatiently. "Can we skip ahead to the tearful reunion already? Where are you?"

"Staying away," said Rana softly. "It's not safe for me to be around right now."

"Is it safe for you to be there?" Kyla shot back, now visibly annoyed.

"Well—"

"We're coming," I said, breaking it up. "You can come to Lloyd's place tonight. There's nowhere safer in the whole city." Even if I needed to force Lloyd to let her stay the night. We had more than enough bedrooms, he couldn't possibly object. She didn't have anywhere else to go.

"...Okay."

As it turned out, it was just me coming. Kyla knew when to bow out—we'd found Rana, and the rest of the mystery could wait. Rana didn't have the same relationship with Kyla as I did, or the same trust. If Rana was going to explain anything, it needed to just be me. I hugged my best friend goodbye as Carolyn pulled up.

We set off across the city. Of course, there was another protest in town, and of course it made everything a little bit more chaotic. I dreaded to think what might happen if they spotted Rana somewhere. A hate crime could stir up a lot of chaos, and the real news agencies were starting to pick up the story now. They couched their words in "allegedly"s and "suspected"s, but even the most credible had printed the story. This could turn into a national thing fast. It wasn't necessarily a bad thing either… a national thing meant more attention on a problem, which meant something could get done. On the national scale, it could create some good in the end, if the U.S. treated it as an opportunity for change.

Synecdoche. That's the word for when some individual piece is made to represent the whole. Like when someone says Portland has a homeless problem, or like me with the U.S. just now. It's a useful shorthand, but it's also a really easy way to forget the people underneath the word. I was one of the people underneath, a shorthand to bigger problems, and Rana might become the same. A name synonymous with victimhood, oppression, and hate. Unable to live her life properly, for all the people who just wouldn't let her be one way or the other.

How was I supposed to stop it?

The car stopped at the edge of the park. It was the very same park where I'd claimed my first win… where Rana and I had our first date. The park was also one of the few places left with the free phone lines set up by a magnanimous software developer a decade or two earlier. Rana had travelled here to reach me, waited for me in a place we could call ours.

I found her on a bench, staring at the ground. Wrapped in her scarf and warm thick clothes—it was deep into autumn after all—I couldn't make out any injuries. She seemed in perfect health, if not for the reddened eyes and shivering. I breathed a sigh of relief. It took everything in me not to sprint to her, but I didn't want to make a scene. The danger was past. The leaves falling around us provided a silent orchestra, the symphony of our reunion in peace and pain.

Without a word, I sat down next to her. Without a word, she leaned into me. Without a word, I wrapped my arms around her and pulled into a hug, gentle and with all the warmth I could possibly convey. We sat there for a very long time, as the sun began to drop low in the sky and the city quieted around us. Mercifully, not a single soul passed by, leaving us utterly alone in the park.

"I love you," I whispered.

"I love you too," Rana replied, and it warmed my whole body to hear her say it.

"What happened?" I hesitated for a second, never letting go of her. If I had my way, I wouldn't for days. "If you can say… I don't— if you're ready to—"

"Nothing," said Rana. She shook her head, scarf brushing against my cheek as she did. "I was getting ready for school, and when I came downstairs… my parents had been called by a reporter asking for a comment."

"Not the police?" I asked, surprised.

"No… just the news. They said they had proof I'd been attacked, and they wanted to make sure I got justice. I've never heard my dad yell like that… he was accusing me of horrible things. That I'd provoked it… My mom just stood there. Like it wasn't happening. I was stuck at home all day yesterday… and then I ran away this morning." Rana winced in my arms. "Everything's gone insane…"

I squeezed her tight for a second. "Have you heard from Reylon?"

"Nothing… I went to his place, but there were so many reporters and police around…" She shook her head. "I tried to call him too, after I called you. He never picked up."

Because his phone is in the parking garage basement. Time to own up, Noël. Rana needs to know what's going on.

I hated it, but I knew it had to be done. Lies didn't do us any good, especially if we all might be in danger. I couldn't tell Kyla the whole truth, but Rana was in the League already. She'd invited me, and Reylon was her best friend. There was something at work here, and it terrified me.

"He was going to wish for me," she added, and it stopped my line of thinking in its tracks.

"Huh?" I said, feeling a bit stupid as I did.

"His wish… he didn't want anything for himself. It was for my parents to be okay with who I am." Rana hugged tighter, as if hanging on for dear life. "I hated needing that. I wanted so much to believe they'd just come around one day. Understand that Allah made me just like everyone else, and it's all okay. I could be gay and the world would keep turning, I'd be safe and happy. But…"

"But you can never be sure," I said, echoing her words about my own parents.

Rana nodded. "This is my worst nightmare. They found out in the worst possible way, and it confirmed all their fears."

"Reylon's too, probably," I said, and it clicked. There was a kernel of truth in there somewhere. Time to dig it out. "We dueled on Monday."

"What?"

"Reylon…" I sighed. "He said some things. We… got into it, and I challenged him."

"He hated dueling," said Rana, still sounding confused. "He wanted me to stay far away from the League."

"Maybe he was right," I said, figuring out the puzzle as I spoke. Reylon's third penalty, Reylon's wish, and the aftermath of our duel were all part of a chain. The pieces were falling into place. I couldn't be sure, just like with everything important in my life, but it felt right. It wasn't the place or the time to speculate though, not with Rana in such pain.

"Are you going to stop?"

I shook my head. No hesitation. "My parents are still waiting."

Rana took a while to answer, head still buried in my shoulder. She was crying, and it hurt me to hear, but at least we were finally together. Relief had arrived, however tragic it might be. Rana wouldn't face this alone like I had. She relaxed finally in my arms, and I knew she was starting to feel that same relief. Her world had collapsed today, but there was still a foundation underneath—the two of us.

"...I hope you save them."

***

We arrived late in the night. Rana hadn't wanted to move for a very long time, and I couldn't blame her. Our park was quiet and peaceful, while the world outside held untold horrors. We talked about anything and everything, so long as it wasn't related to Reylon, the League, or her parents. Anything to keep away from what had just happened.

Instead, I ended up telling her stories about myself. With so little time to ourselves until now, and always with a clock hanging over our heads, our relationship had been born of stolen kisses and quiet rendezvous in the corners of the city. Except for the accident itself, I hadn't told her much at all—about my life before Le Guin, or my life before my parents were taken.

I shared stories of my old best friends, our adventures, but not their betrayals. Rana nestled in with me on the side of the car as I told tales of my parents, their joy in their work and their pride in me, the first of their line who might go on to great things. I went on and on about my old home, the streets I'd grown up on, the places I'd figured out who I was.

As it turned out, Rana and I had nearly the same experience in sixth grade: other kids developing proto-romantic relationships, us realizing we didn't fit the standard mold and making up anything to get off the social stage. I'd always hated the spotlight, but learned to live with it, while Rana had managed to escape it almost entirely. Our methods were wildly different. For her, it was the fake boyfriend built out of a best friend, a selfless sacrifice to protect her. Meanwhile, I coasted through life ignoring all of it, until a nosy reporter threw a curveball at my face.

It gave us another platform to relate on, and more importantly, moments of levity to relieve the pain. Rana was raw and close to breaking at every minute, gliding down the walk from Carolyn's car to Lloyd's front door like a ghost propelled by the wind alone, lit every few steps by lanterns. She barely seemed to notice the immaculate gardens, the pillars, the magnificent foyer or the sweeping wings of the house. Not that I cared if she appreciated how nice the place was, but her total disconnect from the world was a bit unsettling.

She still held firm to my hand. I squeezed it, and she looked at me with that same small smile I'd first fallen for.

The door swung open before we were halfway up the walk. Lloyd stepped out into the night, silhouetted against the threshold like a shadow on the moon. He raised a hand in greeting. I waved back, just a slight movement.

"Hi," I called out.

"I wasn't expecting guests," said Lloyd, in that rich baritone that rumbled across the garden. It wasn't an accusation—more an open question. If anything, it sounded welcoming, which caught me off guard. "Are you one of Noël's friends from school?"

"Her girlfriend," said Rana meekly, but with more bravery than I ever could in her shoes.

Lloyd's eyes widened. Carolyn hadn't told him, once again proving her greatness. He smiled slightly, but as we got closer, it shifted into concerned lips, a furrowed brow. "I'm sorry, but… are you the same girl I just read about—"

"It isn't true," I blurted, interrupting his train of thought. "Well, I mean, yeah she's gay. Obviously. But everything else—"

"Got it," said Lloyd. He fidgeted for a moment, then looked up at us again. "Welcome to our home, Rana."

To my relief, he sounded sincere. His smile returned, the usual sad smile I remembered… and in all honesty, had come to appreciate. There was something constant about Lloyd, in the midst of my chaotic life. He was my shelter from the storm, and always had been.

"Well, come in, please," he said, gesturing to all of us. Carolyn had followed us to the door, and looked about to leave, but one glance from Rana kept her in our little group.

We entered the foyer, and finally Rana's eyes looked skyward. The sweeping arches of the entryway, coupled with the marvelous main staircase, were enough to draw anyone's eye. Her own, dark and full of stars, traced the curves and sculptures, the hanging artwork picked out by Lloyd's designer, and the whole design of the place. It was meant to evoke a sense of flight, of freedom despite the confined space, and I'd never felt it more than that moment.

Funny how I didn't care about the place at all until I wanted it to impress my partner. Go figure.

We made our way into the smaller dining room near the kitchen. I think Lloyd picked it because it had the most comfortable chairs, and because either he or Carolyn could easily get any snack we might want. He recognized what was going on far more quickly than I'd ever expected, and knew how to play it. Light-hearted, avoiding the painful topics, and keeping Rana focused and engaged.

"I've been telling Noël to have friends over for months," he said, and an honest-to-god grin sprouted on his face. I'd never been more aware how young he was, relatively speaking. "This place is huge, we get pretty lonely out here."

"It's majestic," said Rana, glancing around. Her head twisted on my shoulder—Rana seemed reluctant to move more than a few inches away from me at any given time, and I wasn't exactly complaining about it. "Why did you choose this house, if you don't mind me asking? You could have lived anywhere."

"I always wanted kids," said Lloyd. He shrugged. "Figured they'd love the space, secret passages, huge yard and all that. It was never in the cards for me. I thought I might adopt, but I… well, it just didn't work out."

"Until me," I said. Rana nestled closer and squeezed my hand.

Lloyd smiled. "Until Noël. The most unexpected match in the world."

"I really lucked out," I added, to everyone's surprise. Lloyd and Carolyn both looked taken aback. Couldn't blame them—I'd surprised myself with that one. But it was true, and I really wanted them to know it.. "Lloyd and Carolyn are the best I could have hoped for, after everything. I was a mess and they stuck through it anyway."

"You were a treasure," said Carolyn firmly.

"Still are," added Lloyd. "Even if you do need to clean your room more often."

I shrugged. "I figured I'd just switch to a new one instead. Isn't that what rich people are supposed to do?"

They both laughed, and even Rana managed to join in a little bit. We continued to talk about the safe topics—the house and everything in it, Lloyd's software company, even a little bit of Carolyn history I'd never known myself.

She'd been a family friend going back to Lloyd's father, working as his assistant for twenty years and across a dozen companies. When his father got married, when Lloyd was born, and throughout it all, Carolyn was somewhere between his assistant and the cool aunt. As Lloyd set out on his own, she was his first and only employee, unpaid until he landed his first patent and started making contracts. Wherever the Strauser men went, Carolyn Jacoby was there.

"And she's never told me her birthday," Lloyd grumbled. He made an exaggerated sigh. "I have to make up my own excuses to show how much I appreciate her."

"Why limit it to only one day a year?" said Carolyn with a conspiratorial grin. Lloyd and I laughed.

"What time is it?" asked Rana suddenly. We all stopped, staring at her. She hadn't spoken in quite a while, just hung onto my arm, fingers entwined with mine as I enjoyed the closest thing to a family dinner in a very long time.

"Twelve-fifteen," said Carolyn finally, glancing at her watch.

"Somewhere you need to be?" I asked, glancing at her.

She shook her head. "...It's my birthday. November eleventh."

The room fell brutally silent. What kind of fresh cruelty was this? For all of this, right before her birthday? Sure, it's an arbitrary day of the year blah blah, but it's a reason to recognize somebody we love. Someone I love. This was Rana's birthday. I needed to do something.

Lloyd and Carolyn were thinking the exact same thing. "We need to celebrate," both Lloyd and I said at nearly the same time.

"But…" said Rana. "It's the middle of the night. And you didn't know until now. You don't need to try and do anything, it's okay—"

"It's my girlfriend's birthday," I said firmly, and I could feel her react to the phrase through her hand. Just like me, hearing the words 'my girlfriend' gave her a little burst of incomparable joy. I'd have to find excuses to use it more often. "We're gonna do something."

"What's your favorite kind of cake?" asked Lloyd, while Carolyn pulled out her phone.

"...I'm sorry?" Rana shook her head. "Umm… Strawberry and vanilla. But where are—"

"I can't think of any better way to abuse my wealth," said Lloyd as Carolyn passed him the phone, "than to get you a birthday cake right now."

Rana giggled. That sound alone brought me more relief than anything else possibly could. If Rana could have such a moment of levity, so soon after everything that had happened, there was still hope. She might not spiral into despair like I had.

"Are you tired?" asked Carolyn, while Lloyd began speaking to someone on the other line. I wondered who—was there some overnight bakery I didn't know about who could deliver a cake at this hour? "Would you like to lie down for a bit?"

"I don't think I can sleep," said Rana quietly. "There's so much…"

Carolyn nodded. She turned to Lloyd and gave a thumbs-up. Lloyd smiled as Carolyn led us from the room and out of what was to be the party space.

I didn't know what they were planning, but I didn't need to. If anyone could turn this night totally on its head, it was Lloyd. Sure enough, as we passed the front door, a few of Lloyd's staff were trooping in with bags, along with a very annoyed-looking Mr. Hauk in his full chef regalia, grumbling about imitation vanilla. Carolyn and I gave Rana a tour of the house to kill time, showing her all the offices, secret passages, bedrooms, bathrooms, the cellar and the huge attic, balconies, the works. When we reached my room, I sprinted ahead and just managed to toss the last of my bras into the closet before they came in.

Rana and I spent a long time on my balcony, gazing up at the stars. We didn't talk much. We didn't need to. A few kisses, but even those gave way to a peaceful arm-in-arm silence. The huge space above us was more than enough to fill our minds and ease our thoughts.

When we finally returned to the small dining room, it had been transformed. Lloyd's staff were gone, but in their wake they'd left a beautiful arrangement of flowers and candles, streamers draped across the room, and even a "Happy Birthday" in colorful letters over the bannister. It was simple, but we didn't need extravagance.

Rana, a little overwhelmed, took her place at the head of the table, where a little hand-written card with her name had been set. My own card was on the side of the table, but as soon as I sat down, Rana shot me a 'really?' look. Carolyn laughed, and Lloyd grinned, before both retreated through the swinging door to the kitchen. I sheepishly went right back to the same spot as before—so close to Rana that we might as well have been in each other's laps.

A moment later, we were exactly that.

"Gonna be hard to eat with you in front of me," I mumbled.

"Hush," said Rana. "You'll be fine." A smirk crossed her lips. She leaned back and whispered in my ear. "Like you haven't been hoping I'd be on top of you for weeks."

My face turned bright red. I glanced at the door, praying something would emerge to distract us.

"This has been really wonderful," Rana added, her voice soft. "I just wish…" She sighed, and nestled back into my chest. I thanked the luck I'd been granted that Rana was smaller than me, and that this was actually comfortable. Now I was praying that nothing would come out that door, at least for a little bit. "That's a dangerous phrase now, I guess."

"What do you wish?" I prompted.

"That it didn't take all of this for us to be together," said Rana. She closed her eyes. "I know it's silly, but…"

"It's not." I wrapped my arms around her. "We're a lesbian couple, we're supposed to end in tragedy. So if we're starting in it…"

"That makes it good luck?" said Rana, with a sad smile.

"Sure, why not?" I shrugged. "Or we could say screw all of that, and just be in love."

"Okay," said Rana, and she turned around. We kissed, and we kissed again. Long, slow, warm and passionate and comforting and loving. I would have let it go on forever, except that I realized if nobody was coming back into the room, they were probably waiting for us to stop.

"...As much as I love this," I murmured between kisses, "I'm pretty sure there's a cake in there we could be eating."

Rana opened her mouth, and I recognized her smirk this time.

"If you say it, you're not getting any cake and I'm carrying you upstairs right now."

Her mouth closed again… and then opened and closed several times before she finally managed to speak. "I think you're gonna need a different threat," Rana murmured, voice low and breathless. "I considered taking you up on that."

Still, she slid off my lap and onto the chair next to me. It was close enough that I could feel the heat radiating off her skin, but finally, we were visibly separate. After a few moments for Rana to straighten her hijab and catch her breath, I raised my voice.

"I bet Mr. Hauk's having a lot of trouble baking a cake this late."

Instantly the door banged open. Mr. Hauk, still in full regalia with flour caking his apron, swept into the room with a beautiful pink-topped cake. On top, purple icing in the same color as Rana's hijab spelled out a phrase in Arabic. Rana glanced at me as it landed in front of us.

"Kul sana wa entay tayba, Rana," she read aloud, then translated for my sake. "May you be happy every year." She glanced at Mr. Hauk, now flanked by Carolyn and Lloyd. Mr. Hauk shrugged, grunted and turned back to the kitchen. "ʾAškorak ʿalā ehtemāmak."

Carolyn smiled. She turned and looked toward the departing Mr. Hauk. "She thanked you for the cake."

Another grunt from the kitchen, which I knew was the most we'd get out of our taciturn chef, especially at two in the morning.

"Do you know a lot of languages?" asked Rana, looking at Carolyn with surprise.

"I know a few," she replied. "It helped with Lloyd's international dealings to have someone he trusted doing the interpreting. There's a lot of demand for his software in the Middle East."

At the thought, we all fell silent, and Lloyd started fidgeting uncomfortably again. To my relief, Rana picked up her knife and fork and cut into the cake. A slice for herself, a slice for me, and one for Carolyn. Lloyd shook his head when offered—he never ate this late, regardless of the circumstances. One of his little superstitions, born out of the early years of late-night coding sprints. Rana took one bite of the fluffy cake, and her eyes lit up with life.

"It's perfect," she murmured.

I took my own bite, and quickly agreed. "This is incredible."

"Thank you all, so much…" said Rana, and tears began to form. She took another bite, but it was slow and methodical now as emotion overwhelmed her. "I don't know what I would have done tonight."

"It's nothing at all," said Lloyd. "Take your pick of the rooms you saw. You're more than welcome to stay the night."

"I'll find somewhere tomor—"

"She can stay here as long as she wants, right?" I asked, throwing caution to the winds. Come on Lloyd, you wouldn't fail me now. We had the means to do this.

Rana's eyes flew wide. She glanced between me and Lloyd, suppressed hope visible in her eyes like a flame about to be snuffed, still struggling to stay alight.

"Of course," said Lloyd. He glanced between us. "We'll talk more in the morning. If there's anything you need, your things from home or anything, just let myself or Carolyn know. We'll figure out a way to get it."

Rana, clearly overcome, glanced down at her cake. She took another bite, hand shaking. "This is the best birthday cake I've ever had."

"Same," I said, trying unsuccessfully to lighten the mood.

We never quite made it back to happy. Rana took another bite or two before she gave in, too overwhelmed and exhausted to properly enjoy it. I wasn't particularly hungry either, so the only person to finish their slice was Carolyn. As the clock struck three, we said goodnight to Carolyn and headed upstairs. Rana was back to the silent glide, moving through the house in a daze.

As we reached my bedroom door, I hesitated. It didn't feel like the right time, but what did I know? I'd never been in a situation like this before. Rana seemed unsure herself, and glanced at me with a nervous look in her eye.

I winced. Where was all my confidence now that we were on the threshold? "...Do you—"

"No," said Rana, cutting my thought off. Before I could react, she shook her head. "I do, but… not now. Not tonight. If it's tonight, it'll always be…"

"Linked," I finished.

She nodded.

It made too much sense for me to consider anything else. "Well, if you're wondering which room's the comfiest—" I started, but Rana cut me off.

"I don't want to be alone," she added, wiping a tear from her eye.

Without a word, I pushed the way to my room open. I led her inside and gently closed the door behind us. We walked in silence, straight to my bed, and sat down at the end. Rana reached up to the edges of her hijab, clearly reluctant. Even with nobody around and the lights off, she was nervous.

"You don't have to—"

"I can't sleep with it on," said Rana, a flicker of life to my relief. She winced. "Sorry…"

"I thought it didn't matter around other women," I said, dredging up what I could remember from what I read, dead-tired as I was.

"It's about modesty," she replied. "Since I like girls and hope girls want me too, my modesty should apply to them."

Without any more warning, Rana took it off in one smooth motion. She set it aside, brushing her hair as it fell out in long waves. It was barely visible in the half-moon light streaming through my window, but I found it beautiful. I started to glance away, but Rana took my hand and pulled me toward her. She kissed me, one gentle and slow kiss as everything began to fade. Never thought a kiss could put me to sleep, but that's how dead tired I was.

We lay back on the bed, and exhaustion finally took us. It was one final kiss before we could truly fall asleep, but for the first time in a very long time, I felt safe. Lloyd's house had never quite felt like home to me, but with Rana here? This could be home. Time would tell, but for now, in the moonlight with her soft breathing only a few inches away, I was at peace.

If only the same could be said for Rana. I might be feeling on top of my world, but Rana's own had been decimated. More than once, she woke up that night crying. I held her until the tears stopped flowing. We didn't speak a word, we didn't need to. We both knew how we'd ended up there, and where we were going next. All we could do in the moment was endure, and hope, and pray.

Together.