Page 84 of The Atom Between Us

I sag in Lance’s arms, breath coming ragged.

He walks me to the corridor, stopping only when the noise behind us comes back, louder than before. The chant isn’t my number anymore. It’s my name.

“Diana. Diana. Diana.”

My ears ring with it.

In the hall, Lance pins me against the wall, hands pressed to either side of my face. His eyes flick over the bruises, the cuts, the blood on my lips.

“Are you alive?” he says, voice barely above a whisper.

“Mostly,” I manage.

He pulls me close, crushing my mouth to his. It’s not romantic, it’s not soft—it’s a frantic, animal need to prove I exist, that I’m not just a story being told to scare the new inmates. I let him, let the weight of his body and his need hold me up. I want to laugh, or cry, or scream, but all that comes out is a shaky, broken sigh.

When he finally pulls back, there’s blood on his mouth, too.

He wipes it with the back of his hand, then grips my shoulder tight. “Don’t ever do that again,” he says. “You could have⁠—”

“I know,” I cut him off. “But I didn’t.”

He shakes his head, but can’t hide the relief.

We stand there, silent, for a long minute.

Then Kang exhales, a sharp sound more exasperation than relief. His hands are still braced on either side of my face, thumbs hovering just above the bruises he hasn’t yet named.

“No one informed me you’d be in the pit again,” he says, voice low and flat—but undercut with something volatile. “If I’d known⁠—”

He doesn’t finish the sentence. Doesn’t need to.

I lift an eyebrow, despite the swelling. “What? You’d have swapped me out? Pulled rank? Gotten yourself thrown in instead?”

His jaw flexes. A muscle twitches near his temple. “I would’ve done something.”

I let the weight of that settle between us. Let it crackle.

He steps back finally, jaw still clenched. “You pulled that chemistry stunt and now half the damn block thinks you’re untouchable. That kind of attention? It’s a death sentence in here. You don’t know who’s watching.”

I shrug, blood still crusted on my lips. “They were watching anyway.”

Kang swears under his breath, a word I can’t quite catch. Then he looks at me again—not like a soldier, or a handler, or even a man assessing risk.

He looks at me like someone trying to memorize a thing he knows he’s going to lose.

“You’re a goddamn magnet for chaos,” he mutters.

“And you keep circling back,” I shoot back, voice rasped raw.

A long silence follows.

Then the PA crackles, slicing through whatever almost passed between us. A voice cold and clinical: “Inmate One-Three-Two. Report to Medical for debrief and treatment. Immediately.”

Lance laughs, sharp and bitter. “Debrief,” he repeats, like it’s the punchline to some sick Authority joke. “They’ll want to know how you did it.”

“So will I,” I mutter, wiping dried blood from my brow. “I wasn’t exactly planning on the chemistry set.”

He grins—sharp, feral. “Next time, bring goggles.”