Morning sunlight cut through the floor-to-ceiling windows, spilling gold across the marble floor and the still-rumpled sheets. For a long time, I didn’t move. I just lay there, half-propped on one elbow, watching Nova as she slept.

Even in sleep, she looked composed, her brow smooth, her lips parted slightly, her breathing steady. I had seen her angry, cold, calculating, but never like this, weightless. Free.

And damn it, it made something twist in my chest.

She had done it. She had burned ...