IMARA'S POV
Sleep wouldn't come. I stared at the ceiling of our shared chamber, watching shadows dance across the stone as moonlight filtered through the narrow window. Beside me, Nisha's breathing had finally evened out into the deep rhythm of exhaustion. She'd cried herself to sleep after what happened at dinner, her quiet sobs echoing in the darkness until they faded into nothing.
She was pathetic. But I refused to let myself lean to despair for comfort. I was more practical than that.
Two sunsets. The words kept repeating in my mind like a funeral bell. Less than forty-eight hours to solve an impossible riddle or face execution. The others could pretend all they wanted that working together might save us, but I knew better. This was designed to kill us. All of us except maybe one.
