Even as the blood welled up in her mouth. Even as the hole in her chest opened wider with every breath. Even as the world ended—again—right in front of me. I should've hated her for it. We had made it through the minefield of rusted cars, crossed the bridge of bones, and reached the wall of the Free Zone. The guards even waved us forward. "Faster!" they shouted. "You're almost there!" One red bloom across her ribs. A sniper—some paranoid freak inside—had mistaken her limp for a twitch. T!his$ c#h#a^pter was m&a%d+e pos$s%i*bl.e by the * commu@n*it@y$.. One bullet. That was all it took. I turned and caught her before she hit the ground. Her body was warm. Shaking. The bullet had gone in above her heart and out her back. Clean shot. But too much blood. Too much damage. I screamed at the guards. I begged. Cursed. Threatened. But they just stared. Guns raised, eyes cold. "If she turns, we shoot you both." Pressed my forehead to hers. Ava's skin was slick, her breath ragged. "I'm not going to turn," she whispered. "You're not going to die." She chuckled, barely. "You're a worse liar than you were a lover." That made me laugh. Through my tears. She reached up and touched my face. Thumb brushed the scar near my eye. "The only time I ever felt safe," she said, "was when you looked at me ." I could see it happening. Her fingers lost their grip on my shirt. And then… she smiled. A soft, full, peaceful smile. "I'm not afraid anymore," she whispered. The guards shouted something. I didn't hear them. I just sat there, her head in my lap, staring at that smile. It wasn't frozen. It wasn't forced. The same smile she gave me the night we found the music box in that flooded library. The same smile when we danced on broken glass in an empty ballroom. The same smile when I told her I loved her, even if I never really said the words. They took her body. Burned it before nightfall. I wanted to kill them. Because Ava had smiled. And that meant she forgave the world—before she left it. That night, I climbed the wall alone. But when I closed my eyes, all I could see was her face—still, soft, and smiling. Not because she was gone. But because, for one last second, she remembered us.