"I mean, it's a fucken�stupid�solution, but�Christ," Teige went on disgustedly.

"Liya don't need saving," Hawk said defensively. "I'm sure she's givin' 'em hell, where she is now."

"Jesus, see?" Teige complained. "You ent�evil�a'tall, feathers, you're just--"

"A god-damn good brother." That's what Emry had said. Standing at Hawk's shoulder, he seemed so solidly�there, with the bags under his eyes and his feet planted in the thick grass next to his own grave.

Hawk had stood with his wings half-unfurled under their own weight, listing to the left, trying to keep the weight off his bandaged ankle. "Sure," he mumbled.

"Naw, really," Emry said, encouragingly, or as close as he could get. "'S a good a spot as any, huh? I like it."

There was a long silence. The rain had ended hours ago but the air was still dark and still. The grass, the trees, the flowers all bulged with green, clashing up against the dull dirty sideboards of the house.

"You ain't ever coming back here again, are ya." It wasn't a question. Hawk ducked his head, trying not to look at Emry.

"Prob'ly not, Em."

"Jeez." Emry put his hands on his hips and huffed in the same way he would've if he'd still had lungs. It made Hawk's hair stand on end. "I mean, I kinda hoped you an' Liya'd get out of Violetta someday. But, like, for college or somethin'. Not 'cuz I'm�dead�and she's�kidnapped�or some shit."