The boy sways on his feet, leaning into her and clutching her arms for stability. "You don't understand," he says mournfully, his head dipping.

He blinks blearily. "Spinning was everything. It was my life. My legacy. And you"--his fingers tighten momentarily--"keep dismissing that."

Autor shivers in her hold, staring up with wide, frightened eyes. "I won't be able to go home now. My father's going to kill me. I'm a failure."