The almost-full moon is pale against the blackened sky.
"We never had any time together," Sokka whispers fiercely. "She said she had to marry Hahn, had to protect her people. Had to…"
"Good for her," I say flatly.
He looks at me sharply. "She wasn't happy. It wasn't what she wanted. She was just doing what she thought was best for her country."
"There are some things more important than love, or happiness. For her… she had to do it."
"Doesn't make it any better," he mumbles.
I think of the stolen dagger, lying under my mattress. "No, it doesn't."