Flashback ( PDFDrive )

Fitz nodded and went back to staring at the floating body.
What if I told you I stopped pressing buttons? he transmitted quietly.
I . . . don’t know what that means, Sophie admitted.
There was a moment, as the cubby was filling. Alvar was pounding on the
glass, shouting things. And . . . I looked at the panel and realized one of the
buttons probably opened up a drain. And I stopped pressing things.
Sophie’s mouth went dry with the confession, and her insides
twisted all kinds of horrible ways. But . . . she knew what he needed.
She tapped her fingernails to trigger Tinker’s gadgets and gently
twined her fingers with his scabbed hand, struggling to think of
something to say. The best she could come up with was something Mr.
Forkle had told her:
Life is a series of hard choices.
It didn’t sound very comforting. But Fitz tangled his fingers with
hers and she tried to stand there with him, supporting him any way
she could.
But every time the shadows shifted and she caught another glimpse
of Alvar’s lifeless face, the walls closed in and her chest tightened and
finally she had to drop his hand, mumbling about needing air as she
stumbled for the exit.
And Keefe was right where she’d left him—right where he’d said
he’d be—his arms stretched out and ready to catch her, like he’d
known she’d be dizzy and heaving by the time she finally fled.
He didn’t say a word as he led her over to another cluster of trees,
one that was far enough away that she couldn’t see or smell anything
from that horrible place. He helped her lower herself to the grass, and
she tapped her fingers to bring back her enhancing as he sat down