Chapter 25

• Once again, Gala fell asleep in restless silence, having eaten dinner without saying a single word. Dice didn’t press him with questions, choosing instead to let Gala wrestle with his own tangled thoughts. She believed the time would come—sooner or later—when Gala would begin asking the right questions, when he’d finally understood that the path laid out before him was not one, he could avoid.
• She stood quietly, watching him toss and turn, occasionally whimpering in pain, murmuring incoherent words under his breath. Slowly, she approached. The die had returned to its place around his neck, now appearing nothing more than a simple pendant—no longer glowing, no longer pulsing. Just a die. Ordinary, immediately.
• Dice lingered beside him, eyes tracing his face as he muttered something close to a plea for help. He sounded so fragile. So human.