Nat sits erect in the abandoned warehouse, the glow from our fire making the already chiseled planes of his face sharper.

“Are we ready?” he asks, reaching out his hands, palms up. I nod, placing my palm in his. Meg places her palm on my other hand and so it goes until the small circle of Indigos is complete. “Let us begin,” says Nat, his voice resonate. We close our eyes and I concentrate on the crackle of the fire.

A familiar tingle starts in my core, spreading to my fingers and toes. Though my eyes are closed, I know we are now faintly outlined in an electric, indigo haze.

Nat and I are the first to arrive in Indigo. We’ve been doing this longer than the others and it doesn’t take nearly as long for us to phase in.

Nat grins at me. He’s always different in Indigo. When our families died in the Revolt, Nat forced himself to grow up. He was a man at thirteen. In Indigo, he became the boy I fell in love with.

“Ready, Daria?”

I nodded. I wasn’t, but there was no way I was leaving Nat’s side.