Chapter 18 — Lost and Found

I stumbled over the threshold into our new apartment. Rana barely righted me in time—I'd tried to catch myself with my right arm, forgetting the sling. Lloyd made a noise of concern from down the walkway, but Rana waved him off. Nothing to worry about, just the fallen warrior forgetting her wounds. I leaned against her, still aching all over from the duel a week earlier.

Only one week, and so much had changed.

"Our room?" asked Rana, gesturing toward one of the three doors across the apartment. I still felt a little thrill of joy at the word "our". Despite everything, she was with me. I wouldn't have to endure this alone.

Not alone. You have Lloyd and Carolyn.

I didn't want to think about Lloyd right now. Maybe later, but it was still too complicated in my head. What he'd done, or not done, or meant to do… I couldn't keep it straight. Too much, too fast, and all borne of a wish.

A nudge at my side. Oh right, Rana had asked me a question.

"Yes," I murmured. "I need to lie down."

Rana nodded. As Carolyn came in behind us, bags in hand, Rana gently steered me into our bedroom. To my relief, the bed was already set up, and I could just collapse on it. Or rather, slowly ease myself down as Rana made sure I didn't hurt myself along the way.

As it turned out, I was injured in far more ways than just a broken arm. I'd taken multiple shrapnel wounds, a nasty infection from the jungle, and a bullet in the shoulder. The numbing air of the final ground had helped me ignore the pain, or maybe it was pure adrenaline, but it came back in full force by the next day. I was seriously screwed up.

"We should find a way to thank her," I murmured, as Rana set my shoes neatly beside the bed.

"Hm?" The starlight in her eyes twinkled as she leaned down and kissed my forehead. "What was that?"

"Check. She—" I coughed, hard. A few days ago it might have startled Rana, but now it was just par for the course. "...I want to find a way to thank her. She saved my life."

Rana nodded. "We'll think of something."

"Rana dear," called Carolyn from the front, "I'm so sorry, but could I get your help with these?"

Rana looked reluctant to leave me alone. I winced. Last time we moved, there was plenty of hired help, but now… well…

"Go," I said with a sigh. I really didn't want her to leave. "I'll be okay without you for a few minutes. Probably," I added with a smile.

Rana giggled. She leaned down and planted a kiss right on the lips. I shivered, a chill straight through my chest at her touch. "Don't go anywhere," she murmured.

Like I could, I thought bitterly as she wandered away. I wasn't crippled or anything, to my relief, but I certainly wasn't moving anywhere fast. A spike of pain in my side was more than enough to remind me of that. The bed was plenty for right now. I dug out my phone and thumbed through my usual haunts, desperate for a distraction.

Of course, I couldn't ignore the headline of the day.

STRAUSER SCANDAL: Family evicted as mansion is ceded to heir Kyla Wick

There she was, on the frontpage, right where I used to live. I wondered how she was handling the attention. I hoped I'd given her enough warning, with all the stories of my own paparazzi. Kyla was going to need it.

I doubted she'd meant to take her wealth straight out of our pockets. This was a blatant machination of the League, a gambit to keep me dueling and outside of my comfort zone. I knew better than to make it personal. And yet… others had been punished in my wake. Carolyn and Lloyd had lost their home, lost everything he'd rightfully earned over the years, all from a vague, abrupt patent battle.

It took me days to place the face of the supposed inventor for all Lloyd's inventions. Rana left her phone half-open and at a strange angle, and suddenly I could see the half-asleep drugged up face of the freeloader from Kyla's home, the one I'd tripped over. The press ate his story up. A victim of the cutthroat software world finally getting his justice. If only it hadn't been posthumous.

Maybe Robin was the one to plant the documents, or maybe it was someone else. Who knew? It didn't matter, at the end of the day. The authorities found the poor guy dead from an overdose, an obviously fake (to me anyway) suicide note pointing them to a safety deposit box where he'd supposedly kept the proof of his invention—one Lloyd stole from him years earlier for his fortune. What's more, the guy had left everything to the neglected kid he shared a house with, an abused high schooler conveniently just turned 18. Not a cent to her mother or her stepfather. One hundred percent Kyla Wick.

It was too perfect, too clean. I had no idea how everyone didn't just see through it.

What proceeded was the fastest civil trial anyone had ever seen. Lloyd knew better than to try and fight it, not with the League pulling the strings. Better to just get it over with. We conceded everything Kyla's slick lawyer asked for. By Sunday, we'd received our notice to vacate the house, and a stipend we'd been generously bequeathed by Kyla to find a new home and start over.

She'd included a note with it: "Paying you back as promised."

I didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

When the match ended, she hadn't spoken a word to me. We returned to the clearing, panting, both bleeding from various wounds. Rana helped me to my feet, while Kyla just… walked away. The crowd didn't say a word. Eventually, with my best friend long-gone, Rana helped me limp back to Carolyn, and promptly thereafter, an ambulance.

Carolyn hadn't had a clue what was going on. She'd managed to cover for us with the hospital, so I didn't have to answer any questions, but I could tell she was seriously concerned. I couldn't bring myself to confess. Eventually, I think Lloyd told her the truth. I wasn't entirely sure. My mind was completely out of it all week, drifting into depression and wallowing in the loss of my parents yet again. It hurt more than any of the wounds they stitched up.

Extra school was now an inevitability. Between all the tests I'd already failed or skipped for the League, plus my sudden weeks-long absence, there was no possible way to catch up day-to-day. I'd be paying for my mistakes twice over.

"Noël?" asked Rana. I rolled over on the bed and set my phone aside. She peeked her head around the door, suitcase in hand with my own stacked atop it—most of our clothes in one neat pile.

"Yeah?" I mumbled.

"I asked if you wanted anything specific for dinner?"

I shrugged, and immediately regretted it as my shoulder twinged in angry protest. Despite my best efforts, a tiny gasp of pain escaped my mouth.

Her eyes softened. "Do you need some more pai—"

"No," I said firmly.

Rana frowned. She walked over to the bed and sat down. Her warm hand grasped mine. "Noël, you're really cold…" When I didn't answer, stubbornly refusing to acknowledge my pain, she sighed. "You don't need to be strong all the time. It's okay."

"I know." I squeezed her hand. "I'll be okay, I promise. Just… stay with me?"

With a small nod, she laid down beside me. I'd just meant to stay in the room, but Rana was already slipping under the blankets. She wrapped her arms around my chest and hugged tight.

I winced again.

"Too much?" she asked.

"No." I settled back into her grip and did my best to relax. "At least we still have this."

"Mmm." Rana's lips graced my cheek before she fell back against the pillow. "I'm really glad I decided to kiss you."

"Even with everything?" I asked, twisting around in her grip to face her. Our noses were barely an inch apart on the pillow, wrapped up tight to ward off the December chill. "If you hadn't invited me, I might not have ever played Reylon. All of this—"

"Would have happened anyway, one way or another." Rana didn't look conflicted in the slightest, so I fell silent. No use arguing the point. "Even if Reylon had never played, it didn't matter. They just revealed what was in my parents' hearts all along. With you, I have a home."

"This place is way worse than your old one," I said, glancing around with my eyes.

"Better than your old home though, isn't it?" she asked. I nodded. "What really makes a home anyway? The place where you lay your head, or the place where you truly belong?"

"Do I belong here though?"

Rana sighed. "You need to talk to Lloyd."

"He needs to talk to me," I said stubbornly.

"Honestly, the two of you…" She shook her head again. "Do you really want to go through life assuming Lloyd what—killed your parents?"

"It's not like I think he cut the brake lines or anything," I grumbled.

"But—"

"You heard the Commissioner." I rolled over to stare out the window. We had a little balcony, one of the reasons we'd chosen this apartment. It looked out over the parking lot, rather than a forest, but it was better than nothing. "Nobody wished for them to die. It just… happened that way. Because of whatever someone wished, my parents had to die."

"Ask him," said Rana again, as I watched a car back out—one of our new neighbors. They nearly ran over a cyclist on their way out of the lot, plowing straight through the bike lane without a second glance. Great first impression.

I was afraid to ask Lloyd. Now, more than ever, I depended on him for everything. Broken as I was, and with Rana effectively homeless, we needed shelter. Lloyd wasn't rich anymore, but he still had an income. There was always space in the world for another software engineer. I just didn't know if there was enough space in our new home for the both of us.

Was the truth worth the risk?

***

A day after leaving the hospital, while Lloyd and Carolyn directed a small army of hired hands to pack up the belongings we were allowed to keep, I'd finally given into my curiosity. I'd never get answers out of Kyla, so I decided to go to the source.

Noël: i want to talk to them. the commissioner

The Moderator: My dear Noël, you should be healing right now. I can't imagine how awful you must be feeling after that harrowing bout!

Noël: i _need_ to talk to them. it's important

The Moderator: Very well. Your request isn't commonly granted, but in recognition of your extraordinary play in the Tournament, they have agreed to meet with you. Please make your way to the clearing this afternoon. You may bring Miss el-Yassin if you wish, I know you've been having difficulty moving about.

A few weeks ago, I might have been surprised he knew all that, or that Rana was reading over my shoulder. After everything, I was just tired, and angry. Very angry. Rana was right, I needed to know or I'd never sleep soundly around Lloyd again. With us moving to a much smaller living space, that wasn't a healthy option.

Rana helped me down the path into the park, straight to the clearing where my life had changed forever. It took us much longer than usual, but hey, I had nothing better to do. As we arrived, the fog rolled in without any preamble. Soon enough, we were on the subway platform with the Moderator at our side. I didn't say a word to him, nor did he to me.

Everything was exactly as when I'd last been here. Rana clung to my side, equally supporting me and shrinking away from the unsettling wrongness of this place. I did my best to ignore it. We had one thing to do here, and then I was going back home. Hopefully for good.

The Commissioner waited for us in their office. They sat clad in the same simple tunic as before, seated in front of a bookshelf of books we couldn't read, with covers that twisted and bended inside themselves—four-dimensional impossibilities made manifest before our eyes. A twisting golden globe sat on their desk, likewise a mind bending mystery at which I could have stared for hours. As we sat down, the Moderator shut the door with a soft click, leaving the three of us alone.

"Hi," I said awkwardly. Now that I sat face-to-face with the person, I was at a loss. I'd spent so much time building up to the confrontation, to have it just handed to me on a platter was a bit deflating.

"May I quit the League?" asked Rana, taking the lead as I faltered.

The Commissioner frowned—or rather, their face changed to something I felt like was a frown. I had no idea why I saw it as such. Some instinct told me it was… the same instincts I relied on in duels to read my opponents.

"No one quits," said the Commissioner abruptly. Their voice was soft and clipped, every syllable cut off as if edited by a computer.

"Do you mean that no one can quit, or no one asks to quit?" I asked.

"Latter." The Commissioner's hands moved as if independent from their body, scrawling out a letter on a depressed section of desk just outside our vision. Their eyes flicked between myself and Rana, and I had the distinct impression I was being examined.

"I would like to," said Rana gently. "I no longer want my wish."

I squeezed her hand in support. Rana had already cut down on her dueling after Reylon's disappearance, and the tournament was her last hurrah. Still, to hear her put it so plainly shocked me—and sent a shiver of joy from my fingers to my toes. She didn't want her wish anymore because she had me. I was her girlfriend.

"You also?" asked the Commissioner, their head drifting around to me.

"No." I cleared my throat. "I want to know if you killed my parents."

They had no eyebrows to raise, but the skin in that area lifted nonetheless. "No."

"...But they died because someone was working off a penalty, right?" I pressed, certain of the answer but needing to hear it anyway.

"Yes."

And there it is. Rana wrapped an arm around me and hugged tight. I'd already guessed it, thanks to Kyla, but it still hurt. This game, these people had killed my parents and upturned my entire life. A suppressed rage boiled in my chest, but there was nothing I could do. Even if I wasn't riddled with holes and broken, I doubted I could win a fight against any of these people.

If they really were people, damn whatever the Moderator said otherwise.

"Who wished for it?"

The Commissioner shook their head. "Private information."

Would be too easy, wouldn't it. Rana spoke up, her soft tone a contrast to my thick, pained voice. "Did they wish for Noël's parents to die?"

"No." As I opened my mouth again, the Commissioner's hand wrapped up the parchment letter and threw it across the room. It landed perfectly in a pneumatic tube, which promptly locked itself and launched into the ceiling. "Request granted."

It took me a moment to remember what that meant. "You mean hers?" I asked.

"League membership terminated." The Commissioner's head turned to face Rana entirely. "Re-enrollment not permitted. Secrecy remains paramount. Understood?"

Rana nodded. "I understand. Thank you."

Thank goodness. We'd feared Rana might be forced to forget the League somehow. I'd even recorded a whole message with her, to explain gaps in her memory, but it looked like we didn't need anything of the sort. If the Commissioner was telling Rana to keep everything secret, we were in the clear.

"Why?" The question burst from my mouth before I could stop myself.

The Commissioner paused. Their head turned back to me, and one hand slid open a drawer to stow the pen. "Specify."

"Why do you do all of this? What is this even for?" I took a breath. "Why did my parents die?"

They stared at me for a few moments, thinking. The other hand reached back and plucked a book from the shelf. Their fingers seemed to distort in and out of the room as they grasped the edges—if the thing even had edges. My eyes drifted off the sides, stubbornly refusing to outline the thing.

"Progress. Insight. Charity. Ambition. Fulfillment." Their finger ran down one page, then halfway across, and suddenly in a direction I couldn't define. "Súileabhán, Noël. Parents Conor and Saorise. Car accident. Fulfillment wish."

"I'm… what?"

The Commissioner closed—wrapped?—the book and set it back on the shelf. "Wish subject." A bell rang far in the distance, not unlike the bells we often heard related to duels. "Time expired. Appointment to keep." They swept to their feet. I heard a click from the door behind us. Already, the Moderator had pulled it wide. "Continue or terminate?"

Rana looked at me. In an instant, I'd been presented an impossible choice: stay in the League with all the risks that entailed, not knowing what horrors a wish like mine might wreak on an unknown victim. Leave, abandon the League I'd come to dominate and lose my parents forever, collateral damage in a game I could have won.

I wanted to keep playing. I wanted to win. Even after everything, after what I'd learned and the desperate duel against my best friend, I couldn't help it. My name should have been proclaimed the victor, and it still could be. My parents could still live. All I had to do was say yes.

What would you want from me Mom? Dad? What should I do?

***

Dinner was a quiet affair that Sunday night, crowded around a folding card table in the small apartment kitchen. We ate thin spaghetti with a simple sauce, since Lloyd didn't feel right accepting an unpaid meal from Mr. Hauk. Our grumpy ex-chef had offered, or so I heard, but Lloyd had some pride about him. Rana thought it a bit silly, but I felt the same. We shouldn't accept anything too rich. Nothing to tempt the League into more meddling.

Carolyn was the first to break the silence. "Are you feeling better today, Noël?"

No question as to why she'd asked. I was clearly struggling to eat with my left hand. A week's forced use hadn't really improved the situation at all, especially since I'd taken shrapnel in that arm too. "Yeah. Still hurts, but it's getting better. Thank you."

"Do you think you can make it to school tomorrow?"

I gulped. "Umm… well—"

Rana took my hand and squeezed. "It'll be another couple days. I've talked to her teachers, they gave me a few things for her to work on."

Carolyn smiled. "You two are lucky to have each other."

"I'm lucky to have her," I corrected with a grumble.

Rana rolled her eyes and kissed me on the cheek. "Hush. I'm lucky too. You're amazing and beautiful."

"Broken into pieces, more like," I said bitterly. "I should be dead after that duel." It was the first time I really acknowledged how much I'd been beaten apart against Kyla, beyond a few bland questions about my general health.

Carolyn frowned. "You mean the…"

"The League, yeah," I said impatiently. To my relief, my suspicions were correct. Lloyd had told her. "I lost the Tournament to Kyla. Three duels in a row, lots of chances for near-death experiences. I think I'm set for the rest of my life."

"I didn't even know she was a participant," murmured Lloyd, his voice rumbling through the small apartment.

"Neither did we," said Rana. Her hand rubbed my shoulder, feeling my stress. "It was a shock."

"You sound surprised," I said to Lloyd. It was half-question, half-accusation. Were you watching us? Waiting to see what would happen? I didn't voice either aloud, but I knew he'd hear it anyway.

Lloyd took a few moments to reply. Rana and Carolyn chose to eat rather than sit in awkward silence. "Everyone keeps their commitment on them. She didn't have one when she came over." He shrugged. "That's all."

"But you knew." I glared at him, lost for words. Angry, confused questions marched through my brain one by one. I couldn't voice them, though. Not in front of Carolyn, not in front of Rana. This was between me and him. To my relief, my girlfriend did precisely what I needed. I loved her all the more for it, even if she was forcing me to finally confront my erstwhile father-figure.

Rana gestured to Carolyn. The two of them grabbed their plates and disappeared down the hall, leaving us alone.

"You saw me the very first day I came home with Check," I went on. "Before I fought a single duel, you saw her glowing through my bag. Why didn't you warn me?"

Lloyd didn't say anything. He didn't do anything, except to put his fork down. His thick hair brushed across his heavy-lidded eyes, half-concealing his expression. Outside, a siren kicked up—an ambulance and a firetruck darted down the street to some distant emergency. The muffled wails echoed through the silent apartment, red-and-blue flashes lighting up Lloyd's face with color.

"I was afraid they'd take you away from me."

His whisper was so quiet, I barely caught the words. Lloyd's face was overcome with emotion, the same melancholy I'd seen in his eyes every day since the first. He was always so sad, even though I'd never seen any particular reason for him to be.

"...The Commission?" I asked slowly.

Lloyd nodded. "They don't tell you the rules. It gives them an advantage. If you know the rules, you aren't as willing to play. Sometimes I felt like they made it up as they went along, but… well, did you meet the Commissioner?"

It was so bizarre to be talking about this openly with Lloyd. He existed in such a different world than the rest of us, yet he was more familiar with the League than I'd ever imagined. I slowly nodded.

"So you saw what they're like." Lloyd shook his head. "There are rules, we just can't possibly understand how they work."

"So you stayed away," I muttered. "Let me nearly kill myself over and over trying to…" I trailed off. Lloyd didn't know what my wish was. How would he feel about me trying to bring back my parents, replace him? Would he be offended? How could he be, if they were killed by the League? This was righting a wrong.

"To bring back your parents," finished Lloyd.

"That obvious?"

The corners of his mouth twisted in a sad smile. "It's only fitting. A perfect cycle."

My old friend, the chill down my spine, how I despise you. "What do you mean?"

"Killed by a wish, brought back by a wish," said Lloyd. He turned to a briefcase on the kitchen counter—one with a faint glowing outline inside. His commitment. "The Raven and I won the Tournament, and I got what I wanted."

Trembling, my heart lodged in my throat, I forced the question through my lips. "What was that?"

Lloyd stared at the briefcase for a long time. The sirens still wailed in the distance, amid the general bustle of the city. We were back on my side of town, by my request. I wanted to be closer to home now that I knew it didn't matter where I lived. No matter where I went, the press and the notoriety would follow me. At least this way I could feel closer to myself again.

Finally, he turned back to me and let out a long, deep breath.

"A daughter."

***

Rana and I sat on a blanket and dangled our legs off the balcony. The concrete wasn't as comfortable as the wood where we used to share our evenings, and the stars were barely visible underneath all the city lights, but at least the breeze felt okay. More than anything, I just needed the space. I needed to feel like the world was larger than just the apartment behind us.

The city kept moving heedless of our personal dramas. Nothing stopped progress around here. World-shattering revelations only served to reveal just how tiny one's world truly stood. I sat less than thirty feet from the man indirectly responsible for my parents' death, who had unknowingly thrust me into a dangerous underground hiding beneath the glittering city lights. The old me would have been shocked everyone didn't just stop and gawk at the tragedy, at the insanity, at the sheer gravity of the ever-changing world.

These days, I knew better. Everybody was too busy wrapped up in their own private dramas to have any time for mine. Not unless there was something to catch on camera.

"Do you think I deserved it?" I asked. "Losing to Kyla, I mean," I added quickly, realizing how Rana might misinterpret that question.

She nestled into the crook of my neck and pulled the blanket tight around our shoulders. "Why do you think you might?"

"I did treat her awful," I said. "I basically used her as a vent for all my crap. Our friendship was kinda one-way, and she got used by everyone else in her world." Kyla's home swam through my brain. I glanced in its general direction, though of course I couldn't possibly see it through the city sprawl. "Her mom told her to drop out and start working to help pay rent. Yelled it at her."

"You're not responsible for her life," said Rana firmly. Her hand brushed against my opposite side, gently caressing my skin. "Kyla was in a bad situation, just like I was."

"So you're saying I should have kissed her."

She smiled. "Maybe. My point is—and know that I love you with all my heart when I say this—it's not all about you."

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, duh."

Rana laughed gently and squeezed me again. "I'm serious, Noël. The world is vast and we're tiny specks on it. You might have been a bigger player than most, and entirely not by choice, but Kyla is her own woman. She made her choices and she fought for what she believed in."

"And she won."

"Did she?" Rana glanced at me, a knowing look in her eye. "You chose to forfeit. I saw your hand. You could have won."

I sighed. "What was I supposed to do? Kill her?"

"You saved her. Even if she never understands it, or never forgives you, that matters." Rana kissed me on the cheek. "Just like you saved me."

"Didn't really do much, that was all Ll…" I trailed off, not wanting to voice it aloud. Rana had steered me here so easily. The League put us all in this situation. Was I to blame Lloyd for everything, knowing how the world worked? He'd made his wish like the rest of us, not knowing how they were fulfilled, not knowing he would consign some poor girl to a terrible fate by winning. He couldn't have known what would happen, or to whom.

Wrong place, wrong time, wrong everything.

"I love you," Rana murmured, nestling back in place. I kissed her neck and settled in, watching the cars dart by on the street outside, listening to the city move around us. The world kept spinning, everyone in their own little stories, tiny tragedies waiting to surface if only one examined closely. There's some cynicism for you—assuming everyone else's life is just as messed up as mine.

I just hoped most of them hadn't volunteered to keep it that way.

***

"You… what?" I asked, dumbfounded.

Lloyd's eyes fell to the table. His voice ached as badly as my joints did, each syllable strained. "I was alone. Rich, important, successful, and alone. I had Carolyn, but it didn't… she took care of me. I'd always wanted to have a daughter, but it just… wasn't possible for me."

There was an obvious question, but I was a bit too lost for words to ask it. Lloyd brought it up for me. I was beginning to see how he won—as with every other dinner we'd shared, he could read me like a book. He had the same skill I'd honed over all my matches. Lloyd would be a formidable opponent, if he ever picked up the cards again.

"No partner, not for someone like me. Asexual, aromantic, a-whatever… but when you add that onto diagnosed mental issues, the adoption places wouldn't approve me. Wealth only matters so much." The sad smile returned. "My parents suggested they sign the papers and I just watch the kid, but I needed it to be official. I needed to be a father, more than anything. Then I heard about the League."

Lloyd took a sip of water before he went on. Stock-still on my seat, I listened close, watching his every facial tic, his slightest gestures. I wasn't quite sure why—maybe I hoped desperately he might be lying, that all of this was just a crazy story or a dumb joke. It wasn't though, I knew it wasn't. This was real.

"I joined, I fought, I entered the Tournament, I won. And when I won, my wish came true. An opportunity to have a daughter appeared out of nowhere, all thanks to a malfunction in newly-approved self-driving cars." Lloyd sighed. "It seemed absurd that they'd finally let me adopt now, but I guess someone pulled some strings. A daughter at the perfect age for me, plus a moment to 'be the hero'. For whatever that was worth."

"Nothing at all," I mumbled.

Lloyd smiled. "I figured. You knew better than to believe any of that garbage."

"I was going to win," I said abruptly.

"What?"

For the first time that night, I'd managed to actually surprise him. I wasn't even sure why I brought it up myself. Maybe I wanted him to be angry at me. To break off this insane relationship, this forced parentage that somewhere in my subconscious, I'd actually begun to appreciate. Some animal part of my body rejected it, this new connection that was forming with a man who'd forced himself into my life.

"I had a winning hand. I could have won the Tournament. You'd still be rich, my parents would be alive."

"And?" Lloyd prompted. He knew what was next, as well as I did. I was in open denial, and refused to answer. I couldn't voice it, so he did it for me. "You would have killed your best friend."

"How did you—"

He shrugged. "Because I know you, and I know you fought Kyla in the finals. You would never willingly hurt someone like that."

"Maybe I would," I said stubbornly. "You don't know everything about me." All those duels I fought for no reason, just to feel the victory. So many chances for injury, needless penalties.

"We're sitting here," said Lloyd, gesturing to the thin walls of the apartment. "I think that speaks for itself."

I didn't answer. I stood up, the rest of my dinner abandoned, and started away. My brain was too overwhelmed by everything, revelations combined with painkillers and the dull ache of a dozen wounds. As I reached the hallway, Lloyd called after me one last time, giving me pause before I disappeared back to my room—back to Rana, the pure light in my life, the one rock to which I could cling with no reservations.

"I'm sorry for everything that happened, and I can't ever make it right, but… I wanted you to know, I'm proud of you. Both for winning, and for choosing not to. I love you."

God, Lloyd… you picked the best and worst thing you could have said to me. I hated that it meant so much to me, that his approval and his love mattered. Or maybe I was glad that I finally had it again, that fleeting sense of a parent's unconditional love. I couldn't make up my mind, and so I walked away.

***

I couldn't sleep that night. Rana's chest gently rose and fell next to me, her arms entangled around my body. I stared up at the ceiling, glad to have her, desperately wishing I could just drift into the bliss of sleep with her—not that my sleep was anything blissful of late. I was dogged by nightmares of the duels, of the crash, Reylon shot in the head by Cynthia, Check's body being tossed like a rag in the artillery.

Fear of nightmares wasn't keeping me up though. It was Lloyd, all Lloyd, and the League's decision to shove us together.

"Why me?" I asked aloud before I could stop myself.

"Nnnn," mumbled Rana, instantly awake. She'd gotten used to waking up at the drop of a hat in the last week, usually due to sheer pain from my still-healing bullet wounds. "Noël?"

"Sorry," I murmured. "I'm okay."

"Do you need another dose?"

"No, go back to sleep."

Rana shook her head, hair gently brushing across my chest. "Talk to me. That's the only way I'm falling asleep again soon. What were you thinking about?"

"...Lloyd wanted a daughter," I murmured, as my good hand brushed her hair. She nestled in closer and closed her eyes again. "But why was I picked? Out of all the girls around my age at the time, I mean. Could've been you, couldn't it?"

"I don't know. Maybe they knew you'd be great at dueling, when the time came."

"No way, I hated games like that."

"You did?" asked Rana, one eye cracking open to look up at me.

A quiet laugh escaped my lips. "Yeah, thought they were for nerds." Rana giggled a little. "But seriously?"

"...I think they really did try to give Lloyd what he wanted," said Rana. "I've lived with you two for a month now, and I think you're really well suited to each other."

In any other circumstances, I might have reacted to that sentence. This late at night, Rana's hair between my fingers and her head just below my heart, I said nothing.

"You're so strong and brave, but you tend to rush into things. Lloyd is slow and careful, but he has that same mindset. You both love to analyze everything, and you have a lot more in common in your background than you might think. Most of all, you're both incredibly empathetic people."

"What do you mean?"

Rana looked up at my face, her starlight eyes shining bright in the moonlight. "I think it's why you're so good at the game. I was never great at reading people, but for you it's effortless. I'd expect Lloyd is the same. He knew what I was going through and took me in with barely any explanation, and he knew how to give you space when you needed it."

"And he's sad, all the time," I continued, as Rana settled back down again, "because he's so in tune with everybody else?"

She shrugged. "It's a guess. You know him much better than I do."

It lined up. It really did. I was actually feeling sorry for Lloyd, against all odds. As I did, I saw him in a better light than ever before. Not just the generosity he'd poured on me in my time of need, but on Rana, on Robin, on Carolyn and everyone else in his life. Lloyd didn't deserve my rage. He wasn't perfect—god knew if anyone really was—but for our little family? We'd all manipulated each other at one point or another. We'd all done what we thought was best, damn the consequences.

We'd all paid the price for joining the League.

A bump in the kitchen. I leaned up, and sure enough, a light had flicked on down the hall. Without thinking, I tried to get up and move toward it, completely forgetting Rana laying on top of me.

"Err, Noël?"

"Oof, sorry," I said awkwardly. Rana rolled off me and got to her feet, bleary-eyed. Arm-in-arm, we stumbled down the hall and toward the flickering ceiling lamp. Every step felt like a marathon in my fatigued, wounded body, but I pressed on. Something had finally clicked in my mind, some change I'd been yearning for but never quite managed to reach.

We emerged into the light and found Lloyd busy making himself a midnight snack, Carolyn relaxed at the table, newspaper in hand. The clock read three in the morning.

"Couldn't sleep?" asked Carolyn, glancing up at the pair of us.

"No," I mumbled. My eyes flicked over to Rana, much more awake than myself, and I felt a little shock. "Rana, you're missing your—"

"I know," said Rana, brushing hair out of her eyes. "It's okay."

"Err…"

Rana walked me over to the first chair and sat me down, before taking one next to mine. "Give it a moment. It'll come to you."

"Noël, you want anything?" asked Lloyd. "I think none of us ate enough at dinner."

"Yes please," I managed finally.

"Grilled cheese?"

"Sounds perfect."

Lloyd juggled four sandwiches at once in the skillet while we all sat around the table. I leaned on Rana's shoulder for support, while Carolyn flipped through pages of the newspaper. Rana pulled out her phone and thumbed through something—a social network, I realized with a start. It was all so… so mundane.

I laughed aloud.

Everyone looked up at me.

"Sorry," I said, blushing. "I just… this was like, the stereotypical family image for a second. Except, you know… for everything."

Carolyn smiled. Rana giggled. Lloyd just shrugged and turned back to the sandwiches. "Sounds about right," he said, and I could hear the grin in his voice. "Sandwiches in just a couple minutes, everybody."

He served them up a moment later, four perfect sandwiches with four glasses of orange juice. As we all settled in for our midnight—two AM, whatever—snack, I hesitated. Everyone else matched me, taking my lead. I guess that was still true, at any rate. Everybody kept an eye on me, I was the instigator of everything. That was my role, for better or worse.

I could work with that.

"A toast," I said, picking up my glass, and everyone followed suit.

"To?" asked Carolyn.

"Kyla's victory," I said firmly. They all nodded. Our glasses clinked over the sandwiches, still steaming hot from the pan. They could wait a minute or two.

"To midnight snacks and grilled cheese," said Carolyn.

Clink.

"To Noël, and everything she's done for us," said Rana. I blushed.

Clink.

"To past mistakes and future opportunities," said Lloyd.

Clink.

They all looked to me expectantly. I hesitated, looking Rana in the eye, then Carolyn, and finally Lloyd. My patron, my adoptive guardian, my mysterious benefactor, the cause of and solution to my childhood, and all the endlessly complicated feelings I held toward him—exactly like a father should be.

I cleared my throat. For the first time in a very, very long time, I felt at peace.

"To family."

Clink.