“Your room,” I asked around the edge of a kiss.

   “Is this okay?” he said.

   “Yes.” It was warm and still and soft inside, homey and cozy like the Dauphins hadn’t touched it since he’d left. Stellan pulled the small round window open a crack. Outside, a firework exploded in the distance with a pop and a sizzle.

   “Kuklachka. My little doll.” The single candle on a tall bureau threw a pool of light against the wall, enough to illuminate the small room softly. I could tell he wanted to say more, but he wasn’t sure how. I understood anyway, and instead I kissed him again. And again. And again.

   I was so afraid that we’d been playing at being kings and queens, and under it all, I was nothing but a girl, after all. Terrified that nothing I did mattered. Terrified that it did. But I wasn’t scared of this. Is this what being in love was? I wasn’t worried about doing or saying too much, or the wrong thing. I wasn’t worried about feeling too much or the wrong thing.

   My head swam with heat and the scent of the candle and the taste of his skin. Being so close to him was overwhelming, and all I wanted was to be closer. We made our way across the room slowly, until the backs of my legs hit the end of the bed.

   The flutter and snap of the curtains, candlelight golden and glowing on his skin and on mine, flickers of life painting a canvas. The world was exploding around us, and we were a glow at its soft, warm center.

   My skin took every careful touch and multiplied it by the electricity in my blood, and my heart beat in time with my thoughts, with every kiss, with every time I whispered I love you, I love you, I love you.

   He checked in with me every step of the way, and I knew that if I wanted to stop, we would. But I didn’t. So we didn’t. And I was his and he was mine, and for tonight, that was all that mattered.

 

 

CHAPTER 25

 

As was often the case, Stellan and I were awake hours before anyone else the next morning.

   Last night, we’d managed to let ourselves forget about what was going to happen today. Though we didn’t so much as mention the scientists or the mice or the virus this morning, I could tell he was trying very hard to distract me enough that neither of us would think about it. It didn’t work, of course, but it managed to keep the knot of nerves in my throat at bay until we couldn’t deny reality any longer.

   We’d told Nisha I’d be ready by nine. When we made our way downstairs, I was tousling my freshly showered hair with one hand, holding Stellan’s hand with the other. Luc looked up from his croissant. “Good morning,” he said, and grinned at me and Stellan, then cut his eyes pointedly at the next chair over, where Stellan’s jacket and shirt were folded neatly. “How did everyone sleep? You two certainly look . . .”

   Colette, sitting next to him, smacked the back of his head.

   “Ow,” Luc pouted. “I was just going to say well rested. And . . . clean.” She tried to smack him again, and he ducked with a grin. And then his face dropped.

   We all turned to see Nisha standing in the doorway. “All the mice are still alive.” Her voice was bright and confident, but she was twisting her hands nervously.

   I wasn’t a mouse. None of us said it. Stellan’s hand clenched in mine.

   For a brief moment, I wanted to take it all back. I couldn’t do this after all. This wasn’t how I wanted everything to end. Maybe there was another way.

   There wasn’t.

   I took a single, shuddering breath. “Okay,” I said. “Let’s go.”

   All the way to the lab, Jack and Stellan and Elodie grilled Nisha about specifics, even though they knew nothing would change my mind now.

   I sat in a chair. Nisha rolled over a jangling cart of medical supplies and wrapped a piece of elastic tight around my arm. She felt for a vein on the inside of my elbow.

   A tear slipped down my cheek, then another and another.

   Colette tried to wipe them away until she realized it was futile. Luc kissed me on both cheeks. Elodie pressed her lips together and squeezed my knee hard. Jack hugged me so tightly, my ribs almost cracked. Stellan sat beside me, holding my hand and stroking my hair.

   I don’t want to die, said the voice in my head. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die. The tears flowed more freely.

   As I held out my arm and Nisha swabbed the inside of my elbow, Stellan leaned close to my ear and whispered about random distracting things like dogs in strollers in Japan. I was shaking now, hard enough that he had to steady my arm for Nisha, but he just kept talking, smoothly, about how once he’d seen someone walking three cats on leashes in a Tokyo park, and I laughed through the tears.

   Nisha pressed the needle into my arm and pushed down. There was a second when I felt only the cool of the liquid going into my veins. Then, the cool turned to fire, and I screamed.

 

 

CHAPTER 26

 

I woke up to Nisha on the computer, her back to me. I silently assessed my body. Everything felt like it was where it should be. “What happened?” I croaked, and Nisha startled.

   A chair scraped and Stellan was standing over me, the relief in his posture palpable. “How are you feeling?”

   I hauled myself to sitting, and found everyone else crowded around the couch I’d been lying on. “Fine, actually. Just dizzy. Did it work?”

   “The good news is that you’re alive,” Elodie said.

   At that word—alive—my brain woke up. It was like I’d stopped breathing for too long and suddenly air rushed through me.

   “Being alive is too much cause for celebration lately. We’ve really lowered the bar.” Elodie glared from me to Luc, but I could hear the relief in her voice.

   I felt giddy, euphoric, dizzy with it. Hot tears pricked at my eyes. I realized then just how sure I’d been that I’d never hear one of Elodie’s sarcastic comments again.

   Stellan sat down next to me. “How does it feel being a lab rat?” he murmured, his voice husky with suppressed emotion. He hadn’t thought I was going to make it, either.