Kazia watches as Amrita tears through their little cobbled-together home. She's ripping it apart, trying to put it into a backpack. "Hurry," she's saying. "It's finally happening." Kazia watches, but all she sees are the walls they built with their own hands. The tiny garden they coaxed out of the parched earth. The mountains on the horizon, so unlike any in the Reef. The salvage they transformed from left-behind scraps into beloved possessions. She watches, but all she thinks of is the before and the after. She's starting to realize that she stopped longing for the "before" years ago. It's clear now that Amrita has been dreaming of it every day. When Kazia speaks, it takes all her courage. "What about our life here?" Amrita reels. "What life?" she says, thoughtless. "This isn't a life, Kazia. This is waiting. Hiding. This is… purgatory. The Queen's alive. Petra needs us. We have to fight." Of those who go and those who stay, Amrita goes and Kazia stays. Alone.