“I trust you,” she says as his knife points to her throat.

He sighs, pressing his forehead to hers. “I can’t.” His voice cracks.

“You can. And you will.” She pulls the knife closer until it kisses her skin. “You have to.”

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this.”

“It was always supposed to be like this.”

He looks at her and smiles. “You’re right. It was. They think they can make us choose who deserves to live. Who we’d sacrifice. Let’s prove them wrong.”

He kisses her like it’s their first — and their last. She feels the stars align. He feels at home.

Together, they launch forward, shoving off the ground, a blur of fury and defiance. She kicks one officer square in the chest, but he doesn’t fight back.

None of them do. She turns in horror. And sees her world shatter.

He looks at her for the last time. “I’m sorry. You’re the change this world needs. Not me. I love you.” In a single motion, he slices his throat — and falls.

A scream tears from her lungs, but she doesn’t hear it. Only silence. Everything hurts. Nothing hurts.

Arms wrap around her. She thrashes. Fights.

She has to reach him. She needs to be by his side. This can’t be real.

Her voice is a ghost now, soft and broken: “I trusted you.”