The apology is genuine, but there's defeat in it too. A sense of assumed finality. Of course this has been eating at Noah. He knows what it's like to be dead. But Gansey probably isn't going to be lucky enough to be a ghost. He's been living on borrowed time since he was ten years old.

Time borrowed from Noah. His shoulders slump, anger deflated but still simmering.

"I know. It's not your fault. It's just...I always knew I was going to die, probably younger than most. But not this soon." Is that true, though? There was that dark, looming nothingness of his future after Glendower. Now he would never have to fill it. "Not kept from me by my friends."

But it's not Noah's fault. Gansey reaches out and touches his hand. It's the most he can do right now, but it's something. He can understand why Noah wouldn't tell him that Gansey was running out of both of their time.