Infinity Reaper by Adam Silvera (new books to read .TXT) 📕

I didn’t realize how much I missed fresh air until stepping outside, and once we’re driving away, I keep the window down. I’ll have to put the window back up once we’re passing other drivers, but until then, I’m enjoying the breeze.

I tell Wesley I really like Ruth, and how my mother appreciated the kindness Ruth showed her too back at the shelter. Before I spiral again about Ma’s fate, Wesley distracts me with different stories of what a generous soul Ruth is. Whether she’s donating clothes to other celestials and allies that she used to get from sponsors, or cloning herself to help out other parents with their own children, Ruth is constantly giving herself to others.

“She won’t tell you this herself, but she’s strong enough to create six clones at a time,” Wesley says while keeping his eyes on the road. “For Valentine’s Day, I wrote something in her card that was really bad. Cheesy-bad. It was something like ‘Your love is so huge that I’m sure you have seven hearts in your chest,’ and in response she cloned herself so that all the clones could roll their eyes at the same time.”

I get a quick laugh out of it, which feels nice, like the fresh air. “Wow. You tried.”

“Always do,” Wesley says. “Even if I look like a clown, then we have another funny memory.”

We start pulling into the city and I close the window, throwing on a beanie that will flatten my curls in case anyone recognizes me from their cars.

“You’re lucky you have each other,” I say.

“I’m lucky to have her. It feels like yesterday when I was using my powers to steal and survive, but Ruth has changed me. She turned her back on her rich, respected family and all the spoils strangers would give her if she did a single Instagram post, and all she does now is give and give and give. Her time, her energy, the shoes off her feet.”

“Any chance we can send her on some Kindness Tour? We need more Ruths in the world.”

“Ooh, ‘more Ruths in the world.’ Going to use that in my next card,” Wesley says with a chuckle. “There’s something I’ve been hiding from everyone. Months ago, Atlas came with me when I bought this cottage for my family. We had a lot of fun that day. . . .” He trails off. He didn’t know Atlas that long, but they were still tight like brothers. “I bought the place off this celestial we saved, and it’s this safe space where Ruth and I can raise Esther in peace. It’s where Ruth and I have been staying, and she wants to invite you all over when we leave the center.”

I shake my head. “No way. We’re not bringing danger to your home.”

I’m already struggling with living with myself. How many more people have to get hurt before I fly away and live alone on some mountain on the other side of the world?

“Believe me, I’m not excited either, but you’re all family. We’ll take care of you.”

“We suck at taking care of each other. Look at how many lives we’ve lost this week alone,” I say.

Atlas, Gravesend, Dr. Bowes. Maybe Brighton, Ma, and Eva.

“It’s the Heroic Crime,” Wesley says as he pulls into a garage and parks the car.

“The what?”

“Something I coined. It’s what happens when innocent people get caught in the cross fire of war. No matter how careful we’re trying to be when saving the world, there will be casualties. The losses are brutal and real, and a lot of us would time-travel back and undo whatever acts cost us loved ones like Atlas and innocents like Dr. Bowes.”

Maybe Luna was onto something all along with the Reaper’s Blood. There wouldn’t be so much grief in the world if we could all live forever. Dr. Bowes could be home making costumes with her son.

“Darren is going to hate me, right?”

Wesley squeezes my shoulder, which doesn’t hold a candle to Ruth’s hug, but I get it. “I know the feeling. I’ve been able to sit down with some kids and apologize for not being able to save their guardians. Some of them need a minute, but then they share stories and it doesn’t bring them back, obviously, but we all feel better in that moment. Darren looks up to you, and he was clearly proud of his mother. Just go in there, remind him that it’s not his fault, and that his mother was a hero who was creating a better world for him.”

Unlike Dr. Bowes, I can’t confirm if my own mother went down fighting or not. Or if it was quick and painless, or if they made her suffer for so long that she begged for death.

I keep my teary eyes to the ground, which works since we’re trying not to be recognized as we walk down the street.

Wesley throws on his hood, telling me how earlier today when getting Darren and his father to this safe house that he wished he could’ve been wearing sunglasses, but people have been especially suspicious of sunglasses since the Blackout, swearing that they’re for celestials hiding their glowing eyes so they can use their powers undetected. Not our problem this evening, but I think about how easy Ness could blend into a crowd. He didn’t have to tense up like me as I’m passing people on the street, acting like I’m suddenly interested in the awning of a flower shop and the bagel shop on the corner.

We stop outside the tattoo shop, Orb Ink, and the sign on the door has been flipped to Closed and the blinds have been drawn. I realize that we’re standing on a message in graffiti and I step back to get a closer look: YOUR LIGHTS ARE OUT NEXT. I’ve seen this hate speech targeted at celestials ever since the Blackout, and Senator Iron never condemns those behind it.

“Is this shop celestial-owned?” I ask.

“Yup.” Wesley