Almost dying had given me a clarity about how much I wanted to live. I took the fear and adrenaline and anxiety of my near-death encounter and honed it into a weapon. Whatever Chariot threw at me, I'd overcome it. I would win.

But I wasn't sure if I'd ever be warm again. And not just warm like the way Moran's blanket had felt, like an emergency ebbing back to survival, but warm, like cozy. Like feeling truly at home and happy again.

"I should go," I said, twisting around to ...