Free Nil on Fire by Lynne Matson Page B

frowned.
    â€œBetween Dex and Jillian.” I closed my eyes; I couldn’t bear to look at Rives. “In the meadow, when you’d already gone to the platform. The hyenas came for us. I had one rock. One chance. The island forced me to choose who to save, Rives.” I was back in the meadow, making my choice, knowing I couldn’t win. “I chose Jillian,” I whispered. “And Dex died.”
    The ugly truth lay exposed. Now Rives knew what I’d done, why Dex’s blood still coated my hands. I’d cried about my choice so many times that no more tears would fall, but something inside me had died that day with Dex.
    â€œSkye.” Rives voice was gentle.
    I opened my eyes to find Rives’s expression achingly tender. “Don’t own Dex’s death,” he said. “Like with Nikolai, Nil had already decided Dex’s fate. He’d lost so much blood. Dex might not have made the trip home even if you’d chosen him.” His eyes stayed on mine. “If you knew what you know now, would you make the same choice again?”
    I didn’t hesitate before I nodded.
    â€œI thought so. You saved Jillian. That was huge, Skye. But don’t you see?” His tone had grown urgent. “You didn’t choose yourself, Skye. You were selfless.”
    Live , the island had said.
    The tiger had spared me, then saved me. Or maybe that was the island—once on my first day, once on my last.
    Did Nil spare me because the island rewarded my choice? Or because Nil knew it needed me later, as in now ?
    What am I missing?
    I leaned into Rives’s reassuring weight. His question had released something deep inside me, something small but powerful. I would make the same choice again, and knowing that moment would play out the same way gave me a cathartic release that my journal never could; a powerful knot unwound a little, enough to let me breathe without pain.
    â€œI keep wondering what we missed.” I splayed my fingers across his heart. “What I missed. Why didn’t we finish what we started?”
    â€œWe did all we could.”
    â€œDid we?” My voice was thoughtful; my hand fell. Abruptly the darkness of my dreams shifted in meaning: it was a black flag, a warning too late; it was a death notice penned by my hand, written for people I’d never met.
    Call it the butterfly effect , my dad had warned me once. A ripple in time or fate. Our choices define and shape our lives, and our choices impact others.
    Me, choosing Jillian. Me, not choosing Dex.
    Me, letting Paulo go last.
    My choices, all impacting others, all with ripples reaching into today. Teens with names I’d never know, with faces I’d never see, all suffering on Nil—because of me. Because of my choice to end Nil and break the cycle of death. But I hadn’t.
    I’d just made things worse.
    A terrible reality set in. I began to shake. “I think that by saving those on the island with us, we left it a living hell for those who came next. We didn’t shut Nil down; we altered the island for the worse.” I pushed away from Rives, feeling a growing sense of horror. “It’s like the greatest butterfly-effect fail ever. Thanks to us, the newcomers won’t know about food or deadleaf bushes or Search or gates. They won’t know how to escape. And for all we know, that meadow fire burned the groves. At a minimum, it drove the big animals out of the meadow, and they’ll go where they can find food—like Nil City. And the worst part?” My voice grew choked. “The newcomers won’t know about the year deadline—unless by some miracle Paulo tells them.”
    â€œHe will,” Rives said with confidence. “He’ll set everyone on the right track. Have faith in him, Skye.”
    â€œI did,” I said quietly.
    But something had changed. Something had changed Paulo’s mind , changed his choice—and maybe changed