“Tell us what you feel,” Albion says.
Eureka’s voice is so steady. I’m about to lose it. It takes all my strength to adopt a monotone. “I’m very tired. Is it a lullaby?”
I do not want to know the person I sound like.
“You’re doing fine,” Albion says. “You’re nearly done. We want to show you one more thing.”
I know what he’s holding before he turns the photograph around. I try to look at it without seeing it. It’s a close-up of Eureka smiling on a beach. She’s wearing an orange tank top and her hair has been lightened by the sun. Her eyes are more alive than mine will ever be.
It’s obvious I’ve failed. I will never give her up, never grow out of love. Why can’t my family see that love is the start and end of me?
“Well, Ander?” Albion says. “Tell us what comes to mind.”
“Demise,” I nearly choke.
Around me, my family smiles.
“Indeed, she has it coming,” Chora says. “We accept that you are ready.”
“Are you ready, Ander?” my aunts and uncles ask in unison.
“Yes,” I gasp.
“Good.” Albion claps my shoulder, radiating emptiness into me. “It is time to kill Eureka.”