When the cart stopped, a tug in Ren's chest told him to turn back and look for Evie. The feeling rose fast, bright and hot, like a spark on dry straw. He knew that pull. He'd felt it once with Saya—an ache that made bad choices look reasonable.
He killed it at once.
He told himself it wasn't longing. It was guilt wearing perfume.
Without giving himself a second to rethink, Ren hopped off the cart and merged into the crowd.
The marketplace wrapped around him like a moving ocean. Buildings of wood and glass glittered with lantern light. Roofs were tiled in reds and greens and blues, each one sloped and playful, like festival hats. Signs creaked. Steam puffed from kitchens. Laughter burst from open doors.
Everywhere, life.
