I barely slept. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw those two lines.
Positive.
The word had attached itself to every thought in my head and no matter how hard I tried focusing on the Forge, Saint, Razor or the war surrounding us, my mind always drifted back to the bathroom cabinet.
Back to the test.
Back to the possibility growing quietly inside me.
The sun hadn't even risen when I gave up pretending to sleep and slipped from Knox's bed.
For a moment I stood beside him and his arm was stretched across the mattress where I had been lying and exhaustion was written across every line of his face.
The last few months had aged him. War did that. Loss did that and responsibility did that.
I reached down and brushed my fingers through his hair and his eyes opened instantly.
Years of viole
