“We know,” Commander Jones said quietly.

  Zed was sitting across the conference table from her and Commander Bao.

  “You—you already know?” Zed stammered.

  After barging into the Commanders' shared office space, Zed had presented his screenshots showing the boulder that had hit Alina, followed by his story about seeing Andy lurking there. He hadn’t even gotten to the Bubble in Time stuff yet.

  “We haven’t announced it yet,” Commander Bao said, giving Zed a sympathetic look. “But yes, we know what happened. You’re correct that it was the boulder that ultimately caused Alina’s death. We even knew it was loose but stable. That’s why Andy was out there in the first place; he was doing a safety check on the terrain. He didn’t cause Alina’s death, Zed. He was actively trying to prevent something like this from happening.”

  “But the—“ Zed started to say, his voice tinged with desperation.

  Commander Jones raised a hand and cut him off. “We haven’t announced our findings publicly yet. The boulder didn’t fall at random. One of the drones broadcasting the race malfunctioned and smashed into the boulder. Apparently, it was enough force to cause it to shift and fall onto the track. Tragic and unlucky, yes, but nothing more.”

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  Zed ground his teeth. He was so convinced he was right that for a moment, his mind just went blank. Could he be wrong? Had he really let himself be blinded by how he felt about Andy?

  Commander Jones leaned forward and spoke in a gentle voice, pulling Zed out of his internal spiral.

  “Zed, I know you’ve experienced a horrible thing. No one should have to see what you did, let alone as a child. It’s certainly understandable to reach for anything that brings some reason and order to such a senseless accident, but for your own sake, I want you to take a step back. Projecting blame won’t bring Alina back. I know you’ve had your differences with Andy, but that’s no excuse to lash out with accusations, especially ones this serious.”

  Zed opened his mouth only to clamp it shut again. His hearing felt muted as the blood pounded in his ears.

  Thabisa continued in the same calm tone. “Sometimes there is no rhyme or reason to be found. Sometimes a death is just a death, no matter how we try to frame it.”

  “But it’s not just that; there’s also—“

  Thabisa held up a hand.

  Her voice was firm now, jaw set. “Zed. You’re hurting. I’m telling you to let this go. You’re only going to make things worse by flailing like this.” Thabisa exhaled slowly. She looked tired. “Now go get some rest. You look like you could use it.”

  Without a word, Zed did as he was told. He was nearly back to his quarters before he realized his mouth was bleeding from how hard he had been clenching his jaw.