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“I should stop him,” I say suddenly, stepping forward.

Harold puts a hand on my shoulder. “Stay strong, Asher.”

I turn to him.

“You know this is for the best,” he continues. “Deckard is against you. Just be grateful that he’s leaving without putting up more of a fight. Frankly, I’m surprised. I expected him to make one final play for power, but I guess you made accept the inevitable. Now look at him, slinking off with his tail between his legs.”

I still want to go running after Deckard, to make him stay, but after a moment I remind myself of everything that has happened lately. I’ve been convinced for a while that he resents me, and that fear culminated in the attack earlier.

“What if I’ve made a mistake?” I mutter, turning and heading back across the gloomy hut. Stopping in the middle, I feel a gnawing sense of regret in my gut. It’s as if deep down, in the back of my mind, I know that this doesn’t add up. “What if—”

“You didn’t make a mistake,” Harold says suddenly, having stepped up quietly behind me. When I turn to him, he puts his hands on my arms, as if to hold me steady. “Deckard was plotting against you. Come on, Asher, you’re smart, you know that’s true. You made the right choice. Now you just have to hold steady.”

I open my mouth to argue with him, but maybe he’s right. I’ve never been so indecisive before, but right now I feel as if I’m constantly switching from one view to another.

“Deckard’s popular,” I say finally. “People like him, and they trust him. Way more than they like or trust me.”

“By getting rid of him, you’ve shown the others that you’re in charge.”

“Or I’ve made them hate me more.”

“He tried to have you killed!”

“I know, but maybe he was right about the need for change, maybe…” I pause as I realize that I can still salvage the situation. “I should just accept that I can’t control everything,” I add finally. “I should change the way Steadfall is run, maybe have some kind of open forum or even let the people elect their own leaders.”

“That sounds like a betrayal of everything you’ve created here,” he replies.

“But at least—”

Before I can finish, he suddenly leans closer and kisses me. Startled, I freeze for a moment before pulling back, and for a few seconds there’s an awkward silence between us, broken only by the sounds of the town outside the hut.

“I’m sorry,” he says finally, “I didn’t mean to…”

I wait for him to finish, but he seems equally surprised by what just happened.

“I’ve never met anyone like you,” he continues. “You’re so strong, I’ve always been attracted to women who take charge and demonstrate a little authority.”

“That’s… nice to know,” I tell him, still trying to work out where he’s going with this. It’s hard to believe that he’d seriously try making a move like this, and I didn’t pick up any hints of interest until now. Then again, I’ve never exactly been good at noticing that kind of thing. Jude, for example, had to pretty much hold me down the first time until I realized what she wanted. I guess my mind just doesn’t process that kind of information.

“Nice to know?” He pauses. “Maybe I made a mistake. I thought you were interested too.”

“I have a lot to get done,” I reply cautiously.

“I was married before I came to the island,” he says suddenly.

“I…” What does he want me to say? “Okay, but—”

“Her name was Julia,” he continues. “She looked a little like you. Quite a lot like you, actually, but shorter and a little fuller in the face. We had a comfortable life in one of the main cities, we were getting along just fine, and we’d recently had our first child. Life was good. Not as good as the ruling classes, but better than most can even dream of. I was struggling to deal with my thoughts after the war, but for the most part I managed to hide all of that from her. She thought I was doing well. When I told her I was coming to the island, she actually thought I’d lost my mind. She tried to get me held by psychiatric services, but I was able to demonstrate that I was completely sane.”

I wait for him to continue. “So why did you decide to come to the island?” I ask finally.

“I needed more,” he replies. “I needed a life that wasn’t so safe. I loved Julia and our son, but I was bored. I was timid, too. I shuffled to work every morning, and I pushed the buttons I was supposed to push, and I shuffled back every night. Eventually I realized that I was being suffocated by this crushing lack of meaning, and I started to fantasize about coming to the island. I read everything I could on the subject. There was a helicopter pilot named Jones who released a book about his experiences, about what he’d seen from the cockpit when he was bringing people here. The book was suppressed, of course, but I found a copy, and I was fascinated by his descriptions. Slowly those descriptions became all I could think about, and I began to feel as if I had to come here. So one day I told Julia what I was going to do. She hated me for it, but…” He stares at me for a moment. “You understand, don’t you?”

I want to tell him that I don’t understand, that I think he’s a complete jerk, but I figure I should probably hold my tongue. “It sounds complicated,” I mutter.

“I made the right decision,” he adds, keeping his gaze fixed firmly on me. “From the moment I arrived on the island, I knew I was in the right place. I feel so much more alive here than I ever felt back in my safe little apartment with my safe little wife and our safe little child.”

“You don’t miss them?” I ask.

“I feel sorry for them, but that’s not the same.” He pauses again. “Even if I only last a few days here, I’ll have lived more in those few days than most people live in their entire lifetimes. My heart is beating twice as hard, and I feel almost like a different person.”

“That’s nice for you,” I reply, even though I’m starting to think he’s lost his mind. “But your wife—”

“Forget about her,” he continues. “I told her she should come too, but she was too scared by the idea. She wants to feel safe.”

Staring at him, I realize he genuinely means this. He’s excited by the sense of danger, by the uncertainty of the island. I can’t help thinking, however, that he’s a complete asshole for abandoning his wife and child just so he could head off on some kind of adventure.

“So I’m sorry I kissed you,” he says finally. “I guess that’s the point I’m trying to make. It was a moment of weakness, but in the right light, you really reminded me of Julia.” He watches me for a moment longer. “Except you’re more alive than Julia. You’re stronger. You don’t have that sense of insufferable fear and futility in your eyes. Your eyes, Asher, are filled with passion.”

“That’s probably just fear,” I tell him, slipping past and heading to the door. When he grabs my shoulder, I instinctively pull away.

“You don’t like being touched,” he suggests. “From the war, maybe?”

I flinch. The last thing I want is for him to start analyzing me.

“We’re the same,” he continues. “We’ve both been through the war, we’ve both had our minds wiped, but we both have traces of those memories that won’t let us rest.”

I open my mouth to tell him he’s wrong, but I can’t bring myself to say the words. Deep down, I know he’s not wrong.

“Don’t you ever wonder what horrors we witnessed?” he asks. “What gave them the right to take those experiences away? We might not remember the specific sights, but the effects are still echoing in our souls. A memory is more than just an image, Asher. It’s an explosion, and it leaves damage behind.” He pauses, watching me more intently than ever. “We’re both very, very damaged by a war we fought and then forgot. So yes, I was right just now. We’re very alike, and I honestly think we’re the only people on this entire island who can truly understand one another.”