Chapter 28
The house was quiet when Riya got home. No parents in the family room. No Amara humming from her bedroom, no Nyra riffling
through the fridge.
She dropped her bag by the door and managed to wrestle the balloons inside with minimal chaos, though one rogue balloon smacked
her in the face.
Up in her room, she tied the balloons to the back of her desk chair, where they bobbed and jostled above the Pillars of Creation.
Then she went still, like any movement might shake something loose.
The Pillars used to make her feel small in a good way—like her problems were specks in the face of something vast and unknowable.
Now they just reminded her of how little she understood. Of space. Of magic. Of herself.
She sat down without turning on her desk lamp. Dim hallway light seeped across her notebooks and crumpled drafts of her Caltech
essay.
Her mind kept drifting back to the look on Kian’s face. His certainty.
I’d fall for you all over again. Every time.
But what if the damage wasn’t just the curse? What if something had already sparked before the magic ever touched him? Breaking
the curse wouldn’t just erase a fall thing; it might sever what had become real.
How was she supposed to live with that?
The balloons still hovered close by—bright, ridiculous things that had made her laugh. That she couldn’t bring herself to
throw away. Another hint that her life was falling apart in the most unpredictable of ways. Her family would definitely have
questions. But they weren’t here now, and even though she’d normally welcome the peace, tonight it felt like absence.
She pulled out her phone. She didn’t want to be alone with this.
Her thumb hovered over Mel’s name. She didn’t know what she was hoping to hear. Maybe just proof she hadn’t ruined everything.
That there was still something left to hold on to.
Taking a breath, she pressed the call button.
“Helloooo?” came Mel’s singsongy greeting.
“Hi.”
A pause. “Who died?”
“What? Wh—no one died.”
“Really? But you’re calling me! On your own volition! How do I even know it’s really you and not an impostor?”
Despite herself, Riya smiled faintly. “I just . . . wanted to talk.”
That was all it took; Mel’s voice softened. “What’s going on? Tell me everything.”
Riya couldn’t find the words at first. Saying it might make it real.
“I think I’m going to do it,” she said finally. “The sacrifice. To break the curse.” She took a long, shaky breath. “I’m going to give up Caltech.”
“. . . Oh, RiRi,” Mel whispered. “Are you sure? That’s . . . that’s terrifying. “But—are you sure there’s no other way?”
Riya slipped off her glasses, massaged the bridge of her nose. “Yeah.”
“So what does that actually mean? You giving it up?”
“I haven’t submitted the full application yet,” Riya said. “It’s due on Halloween. I’ve got everything else ready to go—transcripts,
letters, test scores. The only thing missing is the supplemental essay.”
Mel made a small pained sound. “You’ve been killing yourself over that essay. So you’re just . . . stopping?”
Riya shook her head, eyes on the beat stack of materials by her desk. “Peri magic cares about intent. If I just walk away,
it’s not a sacrifice—it’s avoidance. I have to choose not to send it. There’s a ritual—mostly symbolic, but it marks the choice.
It tells the magic I’m letting it go.”
Sirah khala had warned her after that, the magic would keep the path closed. If she tried to go to Caltech anyway, all sorts
of horrible things would happen: Emails wouldn’t send. Transcripts would vanish. Roads—literal and metaphorical—would refuse
to open.
“Okay.” Mel exhaled. “But why? Talk me through it.”
Riya blinked at the shining thread of a balloon ribbon, still dancing in the dark. “At first, I thought it was because it’s
the right thing. Because it’s my fault. Because I should’ve been more careful, more ethical, more responsib—”
“Riya.” Mel’s voice was soft but firm. “Is that still why?”
Silence.
Riya thought of Kian at the café and what it would mean to undo it all. He could forget her. He might never look at her like
that again.
Still, she would do it.
“. . . No,” she said.
Mel didn’t say anything. She didn’t have to.
“I think it’s because . . . even if he forgets me, I’d rather that than trap him in something that isn’t real,” Riya said
quietly. “I’d rather let him go than keep him like this. Even if he’d choose differently, I have to do what’s right for him.
Even if it makes me feel guilty. Even if I . . .”
Mel’s breath was soft on the other line. “That doesn’t sound like guilt anymore, RiRi. That sounds a lot like love.”
Riya flinched. “What? No. No. Of course not.” She thought of Mel, curled up in bed with her ridiculous strawberry-print comforter,
blasting TWICE’S “What Is Love?” and smiling with her whole face as she talked about Andrew. Writing his name in the corners of her notebooks. That was love. Big, obvious, messy. A sun you couldn’t look at directly. “I’m not like you. I don’t—I don’t think I even know
how to feel that way.”
“Maybe not in the way I do,” Mel said gently. “But letting him go because it’s best for him? Think about it. Maybe love just
looks different for you. Doesn’t mean it’s not real.”
The balloons creaked faintly in the dark. Hovering by Riya like overzealous friends.
“You’re doing something really brave,” Mel added. “And you’re not doing it alone, okay? I’m with you.”
Riya nodded, even though Mel couldn’t see. And even if she didn’t understand why Mel kept choosing to stay, she let herself
accept it anyway.
“. . . Thanks, Mel.”
They stayed on the phone a little longer after that—Mel chatting about her dinner plans with Andrew, Riya listening, letting
the sound of her friend’s voice fill the silence.
When they finally said good night, Riya felt . . . steadier.
And for now, Riya decided maybe that was enough.