July Thunder
Author: Shannon A. Thompson
Date: 2017-04-10 07:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Young Adult Fiction; Thrillers & Suspense; Dystopian; Loners & Outcasts; Politics & Government; Action & Adventure; General; Survival Stories; Science Fiction; Fantasy; Social Themes; Prejudice & Raci
Description: From best-selling author Shannon A. Thompson comes an exciting new duology in the Bad Bloods universe. Fourteen-year-old Violet has been called many things: a bad blood, a survivor, an immortal...now she has a new name--citizen. But adjusting to a lawful life is not easy, especially when she must live under the rule of the same officers who justified the killings of her flock only eight months earlier. Segregation of bad bloods and humans is still in effect, and rebellious Violet steps into a school where she is not allowed. When the police get involved, things deteriorate quickly, sparking a
Publisher: Clean Teen Publishing

Bad Bloods: November Snow

By: Shannon A. Thompson

To my father—the sky is gray… and blue.

THIS book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

NO part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

Bad Bloods: November Snow

Copyright ©2016 Shannon A. Thompson

All rights reserved.

ISBN: 978-1-63422-192-4

Cover Design by: Marya Heiman

Typography by: Courtney Knight

Editing by: Kelly Risser

~Smashwords Edition~

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only.  This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people.  If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient.  If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy.  Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

For more information about our content disclosure,
please utilize the QR code above with your smart phone or visit us at

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

About the Author

Acknowledgements

I ran. I always ran. It was the only way to survive as a bad blood in Vendona, and yet, I seemed to be the only one who could put one fast foot in front of the other.

My arms pumped back and forth, my calves burning with a furious ache. Even with my breath in my throat, I sprinted, struggling to hold back a scream. Every bit of me was already screaming—silently, inside of my caged soul that never escaped. As I kept running, Shadow Alley blurred past me with a whiny wind of its own. It only shattered when my name reached me through the darkness.

“Serena!” A bad blood never shouted. “Serena!” It went against all of our rules. “Serena, wait!” Our names, too, were threats to our safety. “Stop!” Relationships were forbidden for a reason. Too much emotion destroyed us.

He grabbed my arm, but it wasn’t over. I swung around and prepared to strike him, but he ducked, ready to avoid my violence. His green eyes were stronger handcuffs than his hold. When they met mine, my muscles melted, my toes gluing themselves to the cement ground. In my ears, our rushing footsteps echoed around us, still running away, even though I knew the sound was actually my beating heart. A very alive beating heart.

Daniel’s grip loosened, as if he could sense I wasn’t going to run anymore, and he hung his head to take a deep breath. When he exhaled, a misty fog enveloped the space between us. It only took a few blinks for me to realize my breath was mixing with his—our breathing bounced around the confining walls of Shadow Alley like the flicking lights swinging in the cold gale. Some of the iron lights squeaked.

My eyes moved from window to window, searching for witnesses who might call the police, but Daniel caught my attention with a wave of his hand.

“That’s an abandoned building,” he managed as he caught his breath. “Unless you count gangs—”

“You’re in the Northern Flock.”

His mouth remained open from my interruption, but his lips quickly shut, only to crack open again. “See that tree over there?”

I didn’t look. I kept staring at him. But he was looking over my shoulder. His irises moved in a way that allowed me to picture what he was seeing, a stretched-out, bare tree leaned against the fence.

“When I was eleven, I climbed that tree,” he continued. “Cal always told me not to, but I didn’t listen. I wanted to see—” He cleared his throat, and his eyes dropped back to me. “Anyway, when I got halfway up, I froze. I couldn’t move, couldn’t bring myself to shout out, couldn’t get down. I just froze.” A half-smile appeared. “I don’t know how much time passed, but eventually, everyone has to fall, and I did.” As if to mimic his story, he sat down on the fractured curb. “I fell straight to the gravel, and I was sure my neck was going to break when I hit the ground.”

Daniel broke eye contact to stare at the road beneath our feet. Even with his healing powers, he believed he could die, and I knew why. I had seen the photo, the one of his injury when Cal had saved him. He could.

“Of course I didn’t die,” he said after a moment. “I landed on top of a girl instead. Her white hair was the first thing I saw.”

“Snow Angel?”

He looked up and blinked. “What?” Right as he asked, my nickname must have registered, because he chuckled. “Oh, her name’s Michele, but yeah, that’s how I met her.”

I tried to picture the Snow Angel as a child, squished beneath Daniel, but nothing came. I only saw Daniel’s injured self, sitting on Calhoun’s lap.

“Earlier that day, she had a premonition of my falling, and she saved me,” he explained her bad-blooded powers. “She denies it. Says her premonition only showed me falling, not if I hit the ground or not. It’s impossible to know if she saved me, but she did. Without her, who knows what would’ve happened? But I knew what I wanted after.” Daniel shrugged. “There were four of us by the end of the year.”

I stared at him, waiting for him to continue, but when he didn’t, I repeated myself, “You’re in the Northern Flock.”

“Oh, come on.” He hit his knees as he stood up. “You knew that,” he said. “You knew that since the second time you saw me. I didn’t keep it a secret.”

He wasn’t wrong. I always suspected it, and eventually, I had known, but this was different. Now, it was a fact. An undeniable fact. And I had never wanted it to become a fact. I had only wanted to know about Robert, about my origins, and—somehow—Daniel had slipped in along the way, and so had the Northern Flock.

“You never actually told me,” I managed. “That’s keeping a secret.”

“You never told me about the Southern Flock.”

“And I was never going to!” There was no point in hiding it anymore.

“You’re the one who stayed in the alleyway and asked about Robert,” he pointed out. “I tried to leave. You insisted on talking.”

I folded my arms. “And you wanted to walk me home when I tried to leave.”

We were glaring at each other—an achingly silent glare, much louder than our words.

A current of cold air cut between us, and his bangs waved across his scrunched brow before it relaxed. He sighed, more voluminous than his shout, and rubbed his temples like he could massage the tension of the past few days away. I watched every bit of him move—a careful collection of soundless gestures made habit from living on the streets—but tonight, his fingers shook. I wondered when he had last opened up about his past—how much it affected him to talk about it to a strange girl who ran away after seeing the faces of his flock, his family. That’s why I made a decision.

I planted my feet and sat down on the curb. “So that’s how long you knew? Since the second time?”

He looked at me but didn’t sit with me. “Serena—”

“How long?” I held my own hands to prevent them from shaking too. I couldn’t believe I was staying.

“Since the second time.”

I released the breath I had been holding. “And you want to use me?”

He mimicked my sigh as he collapsed next to me, his arm pressing against mine. His warmth radiated through his jacket’s sleeve. “Where did you get that idea?”

I kept my eyes locked forward, right in between two chipped bricks. It took me a moment to realize it was one of the infamous bullet holes—one from the Separation Movement that Calhoun was a solider in, the same movement that gave bad bloods their name. Someone had died there.

I tore my eyes away. “You want me to join your flock so I can protect you,” I repeated what Floyd had insinuated.

“Floyd’s an idiot,” Daniel started, but when I glared again, he tapped his kneecaps. “In a way, he wasn’t lying.”

I nodded, attempting to stand again, but Daniel yanked me back down. “You want to use me to understand Robert, right?”

“And we talked about that.”

“Today,” he pointed out.

He wasn’t wrong. We had met plenty of times since our first run-in, but it was only today I admitted my reason for returning. I had only beaten him by a few hours, and Daniel didn’t even get the opportunity to do it himself.

“Look,” he started, turning his torso toward me. “I’m sorry I didn’t explain myself more clearly before, but I’m sure you understand. I was going to. It just never felt like the right time,” he choked on the last word and looked away, straight at the same brick I had. “I guess it’s never the right time.” Bad bloods don’t have time.

I grabbed his hand without meaning to, without thinking about it, and his head jerked to the side to stare at my hand holding his. I didn’t let go. I should’ve. My thoughts told me to. But I didn’t. I actually squeezed harder, threading each of my fingers through his.

He squeezed back. “It’s not the best life in the world, but it’s all I know,” he whispered as his thumb moved over the back of my hand. “What I don’t understand is you. How you ran away, how you ran into this life, how you refuse to run back to your old one…and how I can’t help but think Robert is the cause of it.”

That memory cracked through my consciousness the same way the fire had crackled in our fireplace that night. My mother was screaming incoherently—words I blocked out by covering my five-year-old ears—and my father slumped at the dining room table, his back bobbing with his sobs. I stared at his black jacket, gleaming with the reflection of our fireplace, a waving sunset in his erratic movements.

We rarely used the fireplace, but it was colder than it had ever been, and I was in brand-new pajamas, the kind with cloth to cover the toes. I hadn’t changed in an entire day, and I knew it was because of what had happened. They knew what I was before I did, and I had told my parents without even meaning to.

I only removed my hands from my ears to climb off the couch, and that’s when I heard it.

“It isn’t your fault.” My mother’s screams had died down, but my father’s sobs hadn’t. “We can’t save them, but we have our daughter, and she—”

I was scratching my arms, I was grabbing the door handle to stop myself from scratching, I was opening the door without wanting to, I was outside before I knew it, and no one noticed. The cold air felt much safer than the fire inside—like time could freeze again—but it was all the noise that kept me in place.

That’s when I met him. Robert. He was covered in red glue, and his eyes were the darkest eyes I had ever seen, and somehow, I felt like I was seeing where I was supposed to be. Without even speaking, he grabbed my hand, and I felt something similar to what I had felt once before. He was a bad blood like me, but he was covered in real blood. It melted when the snow touched him.

He cried that night beneath the bridge. I hadn’t heard him cry since. He held me to keep me warm, and I held him to comfort his tears. He never stopped crying completely, but I wiped his tears away by touching his freckled cheeks. He watched me with swollen eyes, and when he mimicked me, he touched my cheek and would stop—momentarily—to take a breath. Every time his fingers rose, I expected his touch. This time, the touch was different.

Daniel’s hand was on my face. “Serena.” He came into focus just as his lips inched into a lopsided smile. “Where did you just go?” he spoke as softly as his touch, his thumb gliding over my cheekbone. That’s when I felt it. The cold wetness smearing across my skin.

I shrank away and wiped my tears on the back of my sleeve. Other than my nightmare, I hadn’t cried since my imprisonment. I hadn’t let a single tear escape, and yet—now of all times—my tears came with vengeance.

“Serena—”

“I miss them,” I managed, swallowing the rest of my tears with their honesty. “I miss them a lot.” My elbows rested on my jittery knees, and my head fell into my hands. “I remember so much about them, even though I didn’t stay with them for long.” One fleeting glance at Daniel and I knew he was purposely keeping his expression unreadable. His facial features were too stoic. I wanted a reaction so badly, I pushed him harder by continuing, “My dad was a cop. My mom hugged me a lot. I can’t really remember what she did, but I think she was a writer.”

She used to smell the same way my books did—the ones I remembered reading but not retaining the ability to read beyond a few words. I leaned forward to snatch the paper out of my back pocket. “She always told me stories, especially at night, and my favorite one was about the stars and the moon and how we were all born from them.” I unfolded the paper to stare at the clunky handwriting, knowing it was my father’s but wishing it was my mother’s elegant script. “That’s why they’re so beautiful to us, but that’s also why we should respect them.”

“What do you mean?” Finally, he said something.

I found him over the paper and folded it. “Well, for one, the darkness can shelter us, protect us in our sleep, but it can also let all the bad things hide.” A frown etched onto my face instead of the smile I wished to share. When I realized my failure, I searched the sky. A white light pushed against the back of the murky overcast, bright enough for me to predict. It’d be a full moon in a week. “The full moon can be romantic, light up paths for us, but it can also scare people into believing in monsters.” Bad bloods were the monsters now. “All of my mom’s stories proved that,” I said. “She used to tell me that a full moon is when mysterious things happen and wishes come true.” I stared at the little paper in my hands. “Do you think she tells my sister those stories?”

Daniel didn’t respond. He only listened. I had told him before I had a sister. He had probably assumed I lied, but I hadn’t. It was the truth, and it tumbled out like a story my mom created before bedtime. I tried to picture her telling stories to my sister, but nothing came. I only saw the little girl, with Mom’s hair and Dad’s eyes, standing in the road, saying my name.

“I’ve never met her,” I confessed, staring at the writing bleeding through the folded end. “I think her name is on this, but I can’t read.”

Daniel reached for it. “I can—”

“No.” I held the note against my chest. “I want to learn and read it on my own,” I explained, softer than my previous snap.

Daniel’s head tilted. “Robert never taught you.”

I wasn’t sure if it was a question or a statement, but I responded anyway. “He can’t read.”

Daniel’s eyes swept over me. He took the time to rub his face before looking away.

“He can’t read,” I repeated, studying his reaction. “Right?”

Daniel’s hand lowered to his lap. “I can teach you,” he said, and when he faced me again, he was remarkably closer than I realized. His hand moved to rest on my knee. My heart stabilized. “What else do you want?”

It was a question I had never heard before, and the way Daniel stumbled over the sentence suggested he had never been able to say it before either. Bad bloods weren’t allowed to want anything. Not even life. So, when I was asked, my mind spiraled into obscurity, never actually solidifying an answer even though I searched for one.

“I’ve never been allowed to want anything,” I confessed.

“Me neither,” Daniel agreed, and for a brief second, I was oblivious to the fact that his lips were on mine.

***

We stretched our time out, walking back to the Northern Flock in a slow but steady stride, and lost our thoughts to the ruts in the road. From how much I had been to Cal’s without seeing children, I understood it wasn’t the Northern Flock’s home but rather a safe house, something the Southern Flock did not have. Apparently, we did have our differences, and while I knew Robert was opposed to my chasing Daniel all around Vendona, I wondered how the Northern Flock would react to one of their members following me. The closer we got, the more I wanted to know.

“Why’d you chase me?” I asked.

“What do you mean?” Daniel clearly didn’t understand where I was going with my new interrogation, but his foggy gaze implied his mind lingered on our curbed moment.

“I’m in the Southern Flock.” The confession came out of my still-tingling lips. I hadn’t forgotten our kiss either, but we had problems to sort out before I returned to my Cardinal Direction.

Daniel kept facing the north. “You don’t have to be.”

I stopped walking. He took two more steps before he stopped too, taking longer than I wished to turn around and face me. His hands found his pockets, and his eyes found me.

“They’re my family,” I said.

Daniel stared at the fence but not before I saw him flinch at my description. “And Robert?”

“He doesn’t have to know.” My leader’s brown eyes flashed in my memory like a heat wave. “Neither of our leaders has to know—”

Daniel’s laughter broke my words apart. He even pulled his hands out of his pockets to cover up his chuckles. I watched, waiting for him to get through a joke I hadn’t heard, but he kept laughing.

“What’s so funny?” I snapped, unable to hold onto patience any longer.

His hands were on his knees as he let out a few more chuckles. “Serena.” His wide grin caused a dimple to appear on his right cheek. “I am the leader.”

My stomach lurched. “You can’t be.”

He straightened up, only to shrug. He didn’t take the words back.

I stared. “You.” I jutted a finger at him. “Robert said the leader of the Northern Flock was cruel. Heartless, even.”

Daniel’s smile faded a bit. “I’d say the same about him.” The sincerity in his words cut through me.

“He’s not,” I managed, even though my mind was clouded with unanswered questions, with possibilities and theories and guesses. “Is that why then? Because you lead different flocks?”

“More or less,” Daniel responded too quickly, too concisely, and his left hand rose to touch his right shoulder. It was subconscious and everything I needed. My memory recalled Daniel’s scar—the only scar he seemed to have—the mark of seared flesh. I had seen one like it before.

“Why did he do that to you?” I asked.

Daniel’s hand dropped to his side faster than his eyes widened, but only a squeak escaped his throat, almost as helpless as a child’s. He cleared his throat, ready to recover, but I spoke up first.

“I’ve seen it before. Your shoulder.”

He had to know I had also seen the photos in his room, but his demeanor locked up like he was prepared to argue it, to deny the world of the truth, but instead, he turned around. “It’s not a big deal.” He even continued to walk.

I followed him, keeping an eye on his expression. “If it wasn’t a big deal, you would talk to him,” I said. “When was the last time you spoke?”

“Serena—”

“When?”

His eyes flicked over. “Five…”

“Five months?”

“Years,” he corrected.

The confession was the last thing I expected. Depending on the time of the year, Robert would’ve only been fifteen. I would’ve been twelve, and I suspected Daniel was in between our ages. Back in those days, the Southern Flock was made up of Robert, Catelyn, Niki, Ami, and me. So much had changed since that year, but there was one thing in particular I remembered about that time. An illness had almost killed me.

“Stop trying to figure it out.” Daniel spoke like he could hear me drawing lines between everyone’s lives. “Seeing Robert was a rare moment, and it’s best if it stays that way.”

“It doesn’t have to.”

“It does.”

I bit my lip to prevent myself from speaking, and I bit hard enough to taste blood. The bitter tang twisted my insides with nerves, nerves I had to ignore. “You know I can’t leave them.”

I started to come to a stop again, thinking our relationship was finally over, but Daniel grabbed my hand and drew me into his stride, close enough to feel his warmth. “I know,” he said, and laid another kiss on my forehead.

Pleasant shivers shot down my arms. I fought the urge to get closer to him and failed. “So, now what?”

This time, he did stop. We were close to Calhoun’s house, only a walk away from my parents’ house, and as far as I could sense, the honest hour of midnight was approaching with velocity.

He placed one of his hands on each of my shoulders, and suddenly, I was very aware of his height and strength. “What are you thinking?” His voice, on the other hand, was gentle.

“I can’t join your flock.” I found my voice, even though a part of me—a very small part of me—didn’t want to. “Wasn’t that the only reason you were talking to me?”

He blinked. “Is that what you think?” His fingers lightly squeezed my shoulders as he pulled me against his chest. My hand landed on his sternum, but he leaned back to catch my eyes. “I just kissed you, Serena.”

His words made me blush as much as the actual kiss did. “I know.”

Before I could look down, he touched my chin and kept my eyes on his. “Then what’s wrong?”

“What’s not wrong?” I repeated, but when his face fell, I exhaled my uneasiness. “First of all, the election is more important than us—”

“Doesn’t mean we can’t be together during it,” he interrupted, “and second of all?”

“Second of all,” I choked on my thoughts. “You wouldn’t understand,” I stuttered. “I’ve seen it before.”

“Seen what?”

Even though I didn’t want him to know, Daniel deserved the truth. “When I touch bad bloods and absorb abilities, I think I take bits of their soul too.” I closed my eyes to continue. “Bad bloods always attach themselves to me because of it. It’s why Charlotte probably—”

“Who’s Charlotte?”

Her russet stare. Her thick drawl. The woman would never leave my memory. “She’s the one who helped me escape.”

“And she touched you beforehand?”

I recalled her rough skin skimming mine, her abilities soaking into my veins. She could tear human skin off in one swipe. I had used her powers once—to get out of the blood camp—and a part of me wondered if she had once been in the blood camp herself. The government might have let her live as an asset, a forced torturer. For all I knew, she might have been one of the few that tortured me. But I couldn’t remember. I didn’t want to remember. Not that.

“She touched me,” I confirmed, but a fluke in my own memories took hold. Charlotte was helping me escape before she touched me, and my abilities only worked once with her, right after the first touch. She wanted to help me before I stole her soul. My lifelong theory came crashing down.

“What are you remembering right now?” Every time Daniel spoke, my thoughts cleared.

“She touched me after she decided to help me,” I added to my confession, “but maybe she knew someone else who attached themselves to me.”

“Or maybe she saw something in you that you can’t see yourself.” His expression softened. “Serena,” he whispered my name. “You can save us, but you need to save yourself first. Everyone can see that. Even me.”

I shook my head, hard. “You don’t know what you’re saying. I’m not that person. I’m just Serena, and I’m not saving anyone. It doesn’t work that way. Vendona doesn’t work that way.”

“You work that way,” he said. “That’s why you can save us. That’s why you can change Vendona.”

“I’ve changed it enough.” My only secret was mine. I had to step back from Daniel to keep ahold of any form of serenity.

He stayed away like he understood my need for space. “What are you trying to say?”

I folded my arms. “We have to concentrate on Henderson winning the election, not whatever this—” I pointed at him and me—“is.”

“Henderson has nothing to do with us.”

“Yes, he does.” I stopped him from saying something ridiculous. “If Henderson wins, we live. Anything beyond that is out of our control. I can’t change that.”

“You can—”

“You say that because you think you like me,” I interrupted again, desperately trying to get him to see the election, to focus on the politics instead of my existence, but he kept opening his mouth like he would argue, so I shut him down in the only way I could. “You don’t like me, Daniel. You just think you do.”

“Oh, Serena.” He stepped forward, raised his hand, and I flinched, half-expecting him to slap me, but he touched my hair instead. Held in his touch, the blonde strand glittered in the street light. He traced every bit of it. “Is that what you think?”

I stared as my blonde hair trailed over his calloused fingertips, small strands of gold in the midnight cover.

“Do you know when I realized I liked you?” he asked. “It wasn’t when I first touched you. It was just now—right when you were talking about your parents and the moon. You were still, yet you sounded like a song, and I was desperate to memorize the lyrics because I was afraid I would never hear the song again.” His face tilted, and shadows curled over his eyelashes. “And I knew if I had a full moon, I’d wish for more time with you, and I would’ve wished that since the second time I saw you. Not when I saw you in the alleyway but when you were standing in Cal’s kitchen with a knife in your hand.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “That’s an odd time to crush on someone.”

“Do you know why?” he asked, still serious.

“I’m not Blake.” Despite touching the boy, I couldn’t read minds now. I absorbed powers for short periods of time, and even then, using them was nearly impossible for me. Robert joked I was barely a bad blood at all. I was a bad blood detector. There was one other person like me, and she was dead now.

“What you did to me in that kitchen is exactly what I did to Cal,” Daniel explained. “Many years ago, when I finally healed up, I went to the kitchen and I grabbed that knife, and he surprised me just like I surprised you.” He stared at my hair in his hand as if it were actually the weapon we had shared. “And Cal told me I could kill him if I wanted to. Said he deserved it. Said he didn’t even mean to save me. He meant to save someone else—a little boy I happened to look like, the first kid he killed during the war.”

Daniel’s recollection cleared up the little Cal had said in his kitchen before.

“He was having a drunk flashback when he saved me, and I only chased you down because I thought you might have been one of my flock members,” Daniel continued. “That’s when I got it. I got why Cal thought he deserved to die, and I also understood why he didn’t kill me when he realized his mistake in saving me.” The pause consumed me. “Cal chose to save me. He chose to care about me. And that sort of decision stays with you forever,” he said. “I chose to care about you, and I’ve continued to choose that every day, and it doesn’t matter to me if you care about me back. I just want you to be okay—election or not—and I imagine Charlotte saw what I see in you.” He dropped my hair to touch my cheek. Then, he stopped touching me altogether. “I chose to care, but you aren’t capable of not caring, and if any bad blood is going to survive this, it needs to be you.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“It’s the only reason you keep returning.” He smirked like it was an obvious thing. “You care too much—about everyone. About me. About Robert. About your flock. And your unnamed sister. And your parents you haven’t seen in over a decade. And Charlotte, one woman you know nothing about aside from how she helped you.” He paused to take a breath. “You think you steal our souls against our will. I think we willingly hand ours over, so our stories—our abilities and our lives—can make it to the future too.”

My heart pounded once, like it would never pound again, before it squeezed and fought through the electric pain. My hands curled into fists as I leaned back against the nearest wall. I closed my eyes to take a couple of breaths, and everything that had happened to me in the past few months flooded through me.

I was forcibly taken off the streets and tortured. I was saved, not once but twice. And I was still alive, still able to fight back, still allowed to see a future that would hopefully be better than my past. We had one week until the full moon would happen and two weeks before the election would take place. If only they happened on the same day, I could wish we would win, but we would have to make it without wishes. If I believed in anything—anything at all—it was the ability of getting to December. But we had to do it together. The Northern Flock and the Southern Flock had to be together, not through my abilities, but actually together. Daniel was simply blind to it, and I had to find a miracle to make him see.

“Why didn’t you kill Cal?” I finally asked.

Daniel blinked, startled. “Huh?”

“Why didn’t you kill Cal that day he said you could?” I reworded my question.

Daniel scratched his head. “Well, for one, I was still pretty weak. For two, he was much bigger and older than me, but I think the main reason was”—his upper lip twitched as his gaze lightened—“I saw a goodness in him, a goodness I hadn’t seen in a long time. And we have too much hate around us to let even a little good die.”

I smiled, and for once, it was a sincere smile. “I get that,” I said, thinking of the day we had spoken in Cal’s kitchen. Daniel was the first person who ever said the words “trust” and “friendship” to me. And when he smiled back at me, I felt like he was the first person to ever smile. Maybe Daniel was right about the souls or maybe I was right, but either way, we had a connection, and our connection had a purpose that went beyond our abilities. It even went beyond us. It had to be for survival.

“We’ll find a way,” I promised. “We’ll help each other through this, opposite flocks or not. We’ll survive this.”

Daniel nodded. “But speaking of flocks,” he sighed, “I should get to mine. Damage control.”

“I need to get back to mine too,” I agreed, wondering how I’d explain myself this time. “Goodbye for now?”

“I don’t say goodbye—”

“Unless I think it’s final,” I finished his catchphrase. “Where’d you learn that saying anyway?”

He shot me a grin. “Maybe I’ll tell you next time I see you.”

“Why do I doubt you will?”

His grin only disappeared so he could lean forward and kiss me again. He lingered, closer this time, and when he pulled away, the cold November wind rushed in between us with his words, “It’ll be okay.”

And they were the best three words to hear.

I grabbed the doorknob to Calhoun’s small apartment, and for the first time in my life, I hesitated to open the door. I was in for it. The entire flock might not have witnessed Floyd’s aggression, but I ran after Serena—instead of staying behind to explain myself—and that was worth denunciation. Still, I forced myself to go inside, and I prepared for an onslaught of questions and demands. To my surprise, no one said a word.

In my flock’s silence, I walked to the fridge and took out a Diet Coke. Squished side-by-side on the two old couches—with the rest squeezed somewhere in between—eleven of my peers waited. Even Floyd was patient. Cal was the only absent one, but I knew he was nearby, ready to intervene if need be.

I popped the can’s tab open and took a long drink before I spoke. “She’s the one who escaped the camp,” I finally confirmed, “and I did save her, but I originally went after her thinking it might have been one of you.”

“None of us were missing that day,” Floyd pointed out. “None of us have ever gone missing.”

“I know,” I said. “But instincts took over, and I did what I thought was the right thing to do.” I took another sip to maintain my calm demeanor. “Vendona didn’t give me an hour to make a decision. I had to make it right away, and I did, and I don’t regret it.”

Floyd’s eyebrows rose to his hairline, like they were capable of stretching in inhuman ways too. “You would risk your flock again if given the chance?”

I nodded.

Maggie twisted one of her red curls around her forefinger. “She’s one of them, isn’t she?” The redhead didn’t have to explain.

“She’s in the Southern Flock, yes.”

“I thought you hated them,” Tessa squeaked. Even the kids were a part of the discussion.

I had to lean against the island to keep myself standing. “I never said that.” I cleared my throat. “I know you all hear the news, how Vendona talks about the flocks’ relations with one another, but it’s…complicated,” I paused to collect my thoughts. “We’re remaining separated, and Serena is staying with them. She won’t be joining us.”

“So she’s gone?” Floyd asked. “For good?”

I swallowed my nerves. “No.”

This time, he stood, attempting to tower over me even from a short distance. “What are you thinking, keeping her around?”

“I have my reasons.” I managed to speak without clenching my teeth.

“Are you dating her?” he accused.

I didn’t deny it.

Floyd threw his hands up in the air. “I knew it,” his voice rumbled, low like spring thunder. “You need to step down. You’ve lost your focus. You—”

“Oh, shut up already.”

The entire room obeyed like the sharp voice belonged to the leader, but it wasn’t mine. It was Vi, and she stood next to Adam in the corner, glaring at Floyd like he was an officer instead of a fellow bad blood.

“Stay out of this, Vi.” Floyd attempted to quiet the thirteen-year-old, but the shadowy girl scoffed.

“I could run, but I don’t. You know why, tough guy?” Her head tilted, and her eyes darkened to depths only a demon would have. When she pointed at me, I half-expected shadows to consume me, but only her finger shook. “Because Daniel is the one who took us off the streets. If you haven’t forgotten, this guy is the one who dragged you out of a suicide mission at the bar. He saved us, not you, and we owe him for that.”

Floyd’s mouth cracked open, but before he could speak, Vi stepped forward—almost lurching—and sneered. “You’re a coward, trying to take over like this.”

“Vi,” I said and tried to catch her attention, but her bottomless eyes remained locked on Floyd. “That’s enough.”

She ignored me. “Daniel’s the only one who’s done anything for you, and if you think I’m going to stand here and let you berate him—when I’m one of the few who could leave Vendona behind—then, you have another thing coming.” Her words were as fast and sharp as her snarl. “I’ll put you in the shadows before I let you take over.”

Floyd’s eyes widened as Adam attempted to grab her, but his hand went right through her. In her anger, she had lost control of her abilities, and she had become a partial shadow. Her black hair formed into misty snakes, and the closest child scooted away from the teen. Everyone knew what being in the shadows was like. Vi had taken everyone in before, and not a single person asked to be taken in again. Except for Blake. He loved everything fearlessly and stayed close to Vi’s feet, even reaching up for her hand, but she never noticed the blond boy.

When Blake gave up on getting Vi’s attention, he waddled to Floyd’s side. “Daniel loves you too,” he said, adding a big grin like the period at the end of his sentence.

Vi solidified at that. She even looked down at him, her hair finally cascading down her back like she was human, and the rest of the room focused on the five-year-old too.

As if he didn’t notice the amount of attention on him, Blake squeezed his teddy bear into a hug. “He loves all of us,” he squeaked, never losing his grin. “And he wouldn’t kick you out, even though others want it.”

Floyd blinked. Adam pulled Vi back, and Michele’s shoulders rose. No one had told Floyd about how the others wanted him thrown out, but Blake’s abilities allowed the boy to hear it without being able to understand it. Even after he said it, Blake’s brow scrunched up right above his nose, and he glanced at his feet as if he were trying to remember what he just said. It was when he looked back up that his blue eyes were wide. “I can kick a soccer ball.”

His attempt to make sense of the unfamiliar phrase failed, and Kally’s hand landed on Blake’s blond mop—a gesture everyone used to train him to stop talking—but he began humming like it was the only way of distracting himself. Even then, when he stopped stroking his bear, his cheeks burned red. “Daniel wouldn’t kick you. That’s mean. He doesn’t kick anyone.”

Kally lifted the five-year-old up into her arms. “That’s right, Blake,” she said, adjusting him as if she had forgotten how big he’d gotten. “Kicking is mean.” She looked at Michele for guidance, and she gestured to the hallway where we all knew Calhoun was hiding. No one wanted Blake involved any more than he already had been. It was upsetting him too much, and Kally was taking over the situation. She hurried down the hallway before Blake could continue, but the entire time, Blake’s blue eyes watched over Kally’s shoulder.

The silence that followed was too familiar, too lined with aggression. When Floyd sucked in a breath, I expected the worst, but he shrugged. “No one wanted to kick me out.” He chuckled, as if laughter would make it a fact, but Maggie huffed.

“I did.” The redhead locked eyes with him, but I averted mine to see Adam’s reaction. He was focused, watching her every move, and by the time I glanced back at Maggie, she was standing a foot away from Floyd. “I never wanted you in this flock in the first place.”

Floyd’s upper lip twitched, like he wanted to scream, but his eyes glanced over Maggie’s shoulder—directly at Adam—and Floyd shrank. It was only then that I realized he had stretched out previously, trying to appear taller than he actually was. This time, though, he folded his arms and slouched against the wall like that explained his change. Before he could create a clever response, Maggie shook her head at him.

“You don’t get it,” she said. “You had a family—a fiancée—until two years ago. I’ve never even been on a date.” She waved her hand over the others. “Most of us hardly had a family. We had the streets. We had—” She choked. “You think this is living on the streets. It’s not. And the rest of the flock understands that, but you don’t.” Her voice rose an octave. “You couldn’t save one of us if it came down to it.” As she raised her voice again, it cracked and her eyes watered. “So, please. Please stop trying to ruin the only family I have.”

“Hey.” Adam’s voice was soft as he reached out to take Maggie’s arm. Instead of pulling her back, he stepped up to her side and took her in his arms. His right hand rested on top of her red curls, and his left hand stroked her back as she began to shake. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

In two seconds, I saw them as children—seven years younger—as Adam dragged her inside our house and begged me to let her join the Northern Flock. Whatever had transpired for him to get her out of the gangs, he hadn’t just traded my knife. He had fought, and they were both covered in muck and grime. Next to one another, with muffled up hair—his black hair and her red hair—they had looked like fire and ash—burning with desperation. I couldn’t deny her membership. She joined right away, and she saved Ryne shortly after that. Now, standing in the room, Ryne stepped up next to Adam.

“You understand, don’t you?” he spoke calmly, like the events in his life muted his emotions. “We can’t fall apart now. We have to be together in this. And without him”—Ryne’s head tilted my way—“we won’t be a flock.”

“He’s what brought us together,” Michele added, her voice quieter but firmer than the rest of them. “In one way or another, he’s the reason we are all standing in this room.”

Floyd’s face flushed as red as Maggie’s curls. “But he’s never here—”

“Floyd,” I finally spoke up, saying his name as sharply as I could. When he looked my way, I forced a smile, still exhausted from the day. “Go home.”

His eyes widened like I had kicked him out, and everyone waited for my clarification. I allowed my pause to linger, just to allow him to feel the possibility grow inside of him, and then I added, “Take everyone with you too.”

He was still in the Northern Flock. He always would be.

While Floyd’s shoulders relaxed, Adam’s grip tightened around Maggie. “What?” It was practically a curse. This was my opportunity to ostracize Floyd, but I wasn’t taking it. Despite the ruckus the guy had caused, I was still going to protect him.

I locked eyes with my best friend and Cal’s nephew. “I know it’s late”—I took a breath—“but everyone will be safe in the dark, and you all need to sleep in your own beds tonight. Floyd will lead you back.”

As much as I wanted to blame him, I couldn’t. I wasn’t around, not by choice, and Vendona was in a tough position. Nerves were high, and they were only about to escalate. Michele’s premonition about Henderson had yet to come true, and I knew it was approaching quickly. When it happened, I didn’t need to be leading a bunch of children through the night. I needed to be alone. I needed to be able to come up with the next step, and in the meantime, Floyd could do what I couldn’t. Giving him the responsibility would also ease the tension.

“What about you?” Peyton asked as she tugged on my jacket. I hadn’t even noticed the eleven-year-old standing next to me.

“I’ll be back in the morning,” I promised.

She eyed me, but Michele grabbed her hand, and the two headed for the door. Hearing the door open, Kally appeared from the back room with Blake, and Cal hovered in the hallway as Adam helped Maggie to the exit. Floyd watched me, but he didn’t speak as he walked by. I was the one to grab him.

“I trust you to get them back safe,” I said.

He was quiet, searching my face for something I couldn’t guess, but then he nodded. As he left with the others following, Tessa paused at the doorway. The flowers Blake had brought me were already withering. In the chaos, we forgot to put them in water. But Tessa leaned up on her tiptoes and stretched her fingertips toward the bruising plants. They sprung up, straight toward the ceiling, and glowed white with life.

She shot me a small grin before spinning around, flinging her two long braids over her shoulder. When Tessa’s tanned skin disappeared against the dark alleyway and the door was shut behind her, I stared at the gift. My once-dying flowers looked like they hadn’t come near death at all, and my once-damaged flock seemed to mirror the plant’s revival. But Tessa’s powers only worked for so long, and staring at the lilies reminded me of the one flaw in the little girl’s abilities.

After she revived plants, they always died quicker than the time before.

“Daniel.” Hearing my name shook me awake as much as Calhoun’s one-arm shake did. Barely. “Daniel. Daniel, wake up.”

“Huh?” I blinked, trying to focus in the dim light. It was still dark out. I must not have been asleep for long. Maybe two hours at most.

“Wake up,” he repeated as his silhouette slowly gained color. Calhoun always avoided turning his lights on at night to avoid suspicions from the neighbors, but tonight was bordering on an exception. A small stream of golden light spewed down the hallway toward us. His office light was on.

I rubbed my eyes and propped myself up on my elbows. I had fallen asleep in the living room instead of my bedroom. “What’s going on?”

Cal pressed a cold can of Diet Coke against my face, and suddenly the room was as clear as day. The shock awakened my senses, and I grabbed the can as I cursed. Before I could yell at Cal, he started walking back to his office, speaking over his shoulder. “You need to see this.”

Michele’s premonition. It must have come true. Something had happened to Alec Henderson, and whatever happened, even Cal was in a fit.

I opened the can of Diet Coke and took a sip as I speed-walked to Cal’s office. We rarely went to his office, and I definitely didn’t venture into his private room without permission, but I’d seen it once before. Still, the room impressed me.

It was easily the largest room in the apartment, with enough space for a large oak desk and two pearl-white chairs. Even though they were old, they looked brand-new, as if Cal had bought them for someone who never had the chance to sit in them—and the navy blue threads running along the armchairs matched the old American flag hanging on the far wall. I didn’t know where the illegal item came from, but I knew the military ran in his blood, much like the bad blood gene ran in mine, and framed photos of his time spent fighting were posted around the other walls.

I only tore my eyes from the paraphernalia to stare at the television Cal had flicked on. I immediately understood everyone’s panic. The scrolling words at the bottom caught my—and all of Vendona’s—attention.

Henderson’s Daughter: A Bad Blood?

“Henderson doesn’t have a daughter,” I started, but Cal shushed me into listening to the news reporters.

“These sorts of files are private,” the male reporter began.

The female reporter spoke over him, “The public has the right to know if Henderson is running for office because he believes in his cause or because he has a selfish agenda.”

“There is nothing wrong with a president having personal reasons for what he is fighting for—”

“A candidate, not a president,” the woman corrected, “and I think it matters greatly. It shows a level of ineptitude. A president must be able to remove himself from his decisions. It’s the only way to represent the people of Vendona fairly.”

“And the people of Vendona want this murderous rampage to end,” the man interrupted for the first time, but the other reporter wasn’t quieting down.

“For all we know, Henderson murdered his own daughter and is only running for freedom out of guilt.”

Cal shut the TV off.

I leaned forward, ready to turn it back on, but Cal grabbed my wrist to stop me. “That’s all you need to see,” he said and slowly released me.

I didn’t reach for the TV again. Instead, I stared at the blank screen, somehow still seeing the images of the two reporters, side-by-side on a split screen, bantering over the lives of hundreds of children because one girl might have existed a long time ago.

“Henderson has a daughter?” I repeated, barely able to get it out in a whisper. “Since when?”

Everything I knew about Henderson was what I’d heard on the news. He was born to a prominent family in the Highlands and even served Vendona during the Separation Movement. He was honorably discharged after a bad blood almost killed him. It was that bad blood that inspired him to become a politician. In his first political campaign, he told everyone about the little boy who attempted to kill him and how another soldier killed the child before he got a chance to finish what he started. Henderson told everyone about how—in that moment—he realized why the kid was doing what he did—because he was forced to—and he wished more than anything for that child to still be alive instead of himself. He barely won his seat on the council, but his marriage to Jane Mackey—the daughter of a powerful councilman—increased his visibility ten-fold. Now that they supposedly had a daughter in the mix of it all, they appeared less sincere for their reasons. I didn’t even know if Henderson’s tale was true anymore, and I knew all of Vendona was thinking what I was.

“She’d be eighteen if she was still alive,” Cal said as if he knew Henderson’s daughter was real—and dead.

“This can’t be true.” I whipped around to face him. “It has to be a setup.”

Cal leaned his lower back against his desk. “I’m afraid not, kiddo.”

I stood up only for Cal to tell me to sit back down. I obeyed, and Cal’s eyes kept me there. Even when I placed my head in my hands, I felt his stare on me, heavy with honesty. I bounced my knees up and down as if I could run away. “This isn’t happening.”

The repercussions were boundless if it were proven true.

“Yes, hello, this is Calhoun Wilson, citizen of Western Vendona.”

I peered between my fingers as Cal spoke into a phone I didn’t even know he had. “Yes, sir. Yes, sir. Yes, sir.” He continued to say sir and ma’am for five minutes before he fell into a patient silence. In my twelve years with him, I’d never heard him say either word, but I recognized the polite but firm tone. Military. Who Cal was talking to, I didn’t know, but I knew it wasn’t good. He could’ve been giving up—trying to pull some strings to get me out of Vendona—but that’s as far as my thoughts went.

I attempted to picture myself outside of Vendona, but couldn’t. I was born in Eastern Vendona and raised in Western Vendona. I lived in Northern Vendona, and now, the girl I kissed lived in Southern Vendona. Every bit of my identity was Vendona, Vendona, Vendona, and even though it was a horrible place—down to the back alleyways and bordering ocean—I knew I would rather die trying to see it become a better place than flee and live somewhere else. I didn’t even know what other places were like. After all, it had been illegal to leave your city-state without permission since 2041. That was the year the United States fell apart, but Cal said they called it something else, a “reformation of unification” or something like that. According to Cal—the only educator I ever had—Vendona’s council was a piece of a larger council, the Council of the States, and it was made up of every president from each city-state. We were individual but united. Thus, each city-state had its own president, not governor, but president. They were supposed to make decisions together—one of which included closing off borders—but they could always make their own decisions. Either way, the general citizen population was left out of it. You had to serve in the military or come from a prominent family to be educated on it. Nothing was free. Most of it went over my head.

“Daniel.” Cal’s voice was stern as he set his phone down on the desk. It buzzed, and I realized he had put it on speakerphone so he could riffle through his desk.

Before I could ask him what he was searching for, a woman’s voice crackled through the speaker. “Mr. Wilson, we’re putting you on hold. Please wait.”

Classical music began to play as Cal handed me a photo. A single tear went through the left corner, but the rest of the photograph was in fairly good condition. It was old. I could tell by the crinkles. Modern paper didn’t crinkle at all. And the coloring had faded. That never happened anymore either. Just by glancing at it, I could tell it was older than even the photos I had on my desk. Much older.

“I trained two hundred boys for our first mission,” he said, and I realized what I was looking at. A troop. “This is just a part of it.”

My eyes scanned the small crowd, and I found Calhoun immediately. He was practically Adam’s twin. But he had both arms in the photo, and his currently missing one was draped around another boy’s shoulders. I didn’t recognize him at all.

“I was only a trainer because of my father,” Cal said. “That was how the new way of things worked. You did what your father did, and respect came from your bloodline, not your work ethic.” Cal pointed at the boy next to him. “That guy saw me for who I really was. And he still stood by me. No one else did. Not truly anyway.”

I stared at the photo, at the boy with dusty brown hair and eyes to match. He was scrawny for a solider, especially when he stood next to a stockier Cal, but he held himself with prowess. The guys around them barely looked like they were paying attention to the camera.

“Most of those men are dead, Daniel.”

I swallowed. I didn’t have to ask what happened. This was the Separation Movement. This was the battle—the mass murders—that took place on Vendona’s streets in 2051 when bad bloods were declared enemies of the city-state. These men had killed bad bloods and been killed by bad bloods—and Cal was among them. Even worse, he was their leader.

“That man,” Cal continued slowly, “That man is the one I lost my arm for.” He inhaled and exhaled a shaky breath, and as he met my eyes, his forehead wrinkled as if he were forcing the words out. “He’s also the reason I killed the bad blood, the one who reminded me of you.”

I nearly dropped the photo. “I don’t understand.”

“He can help us with the election,” he explained. “You can help him.”

Before I could ask for clarification, the phone clicked, and a groggy voice split through the silence. “Who is this?”

Cal never looked away from me. “It’s me.”

A loud exhale came from the other end. “Cal.”

I glanced back down at the photo, scanning the man next to Cal again, but nothing sparked my memory. I racked my brain, trying to figure out what Cal was thinking, but the age difference was throwing me off. Cal couldn’t have been older than twenty in the photo—and if I remembered correctly, he was only eighteen—and that meant the boy next to him was just as old as Cal was now. I didn’t know many older folks. Only Cal and Old Man Gregory. But something about the boy etched out my thoughts as I slowly added wrinkles and receded his hairline.

“Cal,” the man repeated, and his voice aided my photo-editing mind. “I can’t believe it. I—”

“I didn’t call to catch up,” Cal said. “I called to help.”

“Ah.” The sound lingered. “You can’t help me, old friend. I’ll find a way—”

“I already have a way,” Cal interrupted as I recognized the uncanny facial features. They had been a mystery due to the smile. He almost never smiled now. A modern politician rarely did. “I think I can solve this rumor about your daughter, Alec.”

The morning light spewed into my bedroom, and it lit up the large, white T-shirt Melody wore as pajamas. She stood on her tiptoes behind a seated Timmy, and he cringed as she tugged his white hair up. With tiny fingers, she threaded his thin mop into tiny braids, and I watched the youngest member of my flock in sleepy silence. How long they had been awake, I didn’t know, but now that I was awake, I couldn’t take my eyes off the two children. Melody was only four, ditched on the streets one year ago until I found the toddler walking around in an invisible panic. Timmy was only nine—and a human at that, ditched by his parents because his sisters were bad bloods. Niki had saved him. At least she had saved someone. But I wondered how the Northern Flock’s stories compared to ours.

Did they have any humans in their flock? Who saved who? Why were they abandoned on Vendona’s streets? How old was Blake?

The little blond boy couldn’t have been older than five, and the images I had seen through his mind lingered in my memory like they were my own. Daniel went fishing with Adam. Maggie—the redhead—watched them from the lake. I even knew where the lake was. In return, I wondered how much Blake had learned about me by reading my mind and how much he understood from the images he saw. I wondered if he’d tell Daniel. I wondered if Daniel wondered about my flock as much as I wondered about his, and now that I had met an entirely new flock, I wondered even more about my own—how our stories compared, how our lives interlocked, how our situation was similar. The Northern Flock had the same amount of members, after all, and their ages even ranged around the same numbers.

It seemed too strange to be a coincidence—almost as if Daniel and Robert had the same plans when they formed the Northern and Southern Flocks—but I couldn’t draw any conclusions by comparing. When I did, Blake became Melody. Timmy became one of the dozen kids I’d met, the ones I couldn’t remember the names of, despite the fact that he was a human and they were bad bloods. Catelyn and I could’ve easily been Michele or Maggie, and Steven could’ve been Adam. We all blended into one another, even though we had different stories, even though we were in separate flocks. Why we were separate was beginning to make less and less sense. Together, we stood a stronger chance at reaching the future.

“Melody?” Her name left me before I even realized I was speaking to her.

“Hmm?” She hummed as she continued, this time yanking Timmy’s hair.

I rolled over on my stomach to catch their eyes. “What do you want to be when you grow up?”

I expected her to say a hairdresser, like Catelyn had been before I told her to quit, but Melody’s lips pushed to the side in thought. “A flower.”

“A flower?”

Melody nodded, and her long hair swished near her waist. “They smell nice.”

“Like Ami,” Timmy added.

Melody agreed, “Just like Ami.”

Ami smelled like flowers somehow—like people born in the Highlands were made of perfume—but I half-suspected that Ami stole perfume from the town square. It was a rare commodity, something hardly bought by those in the outskirts, but I had an inkling Ami remembered where she came from, where her mother probably still lived, and wanted something from it for reasons I couldn’t begin to understand.

Before one of the kids could question why they didn’t smell like Ami, I asked, “What kind of flower do you want to be?”

“A pink one.” Melody stretched her arms over her head and wiggled her fingers. “A really tall pink one.”

Timmy watched her with disinterest, but then his eyes lit up. “I’d be a thorny one,” he said it as if the thought had just occurred to him. “And I’d only bloom in fire.”

Melody’s pudgy arms dropped with her smile. Timmy ignored her reaction and grabbed the comb from the floor instead. “My turn.”

Melody opened her mouth to protest when a soft rapping interrupted her. The door cracked open before I had a chance to welcome the person inside, and Robert poked his head in. “Serena,” he started to whisper until he saw that we were all awake. “Oh. Melody. Timmy. You’re . . .”

“I’m a flower,” Melody finished.

“When you grow up,” Timmy reminded her, and she nodded like that’s what she meant in the first place.

Robert’s lip twitched, but he forced a smile as he leaned against the doorframe. “A flower, huh?”

“We’re all going to be flowers,” Timmy said, still trying to get Melody to sit down so he could play with her hair. “But I have thorns.”

“And I’m tall,” Melody said.

“Like a garden of flowers,” Timmy added, finally getting Melody to sit in front of him.

“A garden, eh?” Robert looked at me, and I shrugged before he turned back to the kids. “Well, I need to make plans with Serena about that,” he said, softer than usual. “Do you mind if I borrow her for a minute?”

My heart skipped, but Melody didn’t hear what I heard in his tone: worry.

“We’re playing right now,” Melody said, obviously distracted by Timmy’s hairstyling capabilities.

“Melody,” I said her name as a warning. She knew not to argue with Robert, but she pouted, puffing out her cheeks like she was preparing to scream. Timmy stopped her.

“You can play with my hair again.”

“Okay,” she cheered, leaping to her feet, only to turn around and stare at me. “But you can only be a minute.”

“Only a minute,” I promised, patting Timmy’s head as a silent thank you. Despite being nine, all the kids played a role in raising the ones younger than them. Without the teamwork, we’d fall apart.

I left as quickly as I could, but my nerves didn’t heighten until I stepped foot into the hallway. It couldn’t have been six in the morning, but Catelyn was there and so was Niki—both pulled out of bed. Ami stood on the stairs, staring at her hands, and one glance at the downstairs revealed Steven, sitting in a chair as if he couldn’t stand up.

My throat squeezed, causing my voice to strain, “What happened?”

Robert folded his arms across his chest. He was the only one looking at me. “A rumor broke out about Henderson a few hours ago,” he explained, telling me everything he knew about the missing daughter. “We’ll have to stay low for a while. No one leaves. Not until we figure out our next move.”

“Next move?” I did not like the sound of his words.

When Robert didn’t respond, I looked to Catelyn and Ami—even Niki—for answers, but everyone was as quiet as the morning should’ve been. My heart pounded as the realization sunk in.

I stared at Robert. “You’re thinking of escaping?”

His frown deepened. “Nothing’s for certain yet,” he said, emphasizing each word, “but we have to stay calm for the kids.”

“We can’t leave Vendona,” I almost screamed, and Robert laid his hands on my shoulders to remind me to lower my voice. I trembled. “We’ll only get killed if we try to leave.”

“And what do you think will happen if we stay here?” Niki asked.

I opened my eyes to meet her red gaze, bordering on a glare. I steadied myself, ready to fight her, but Robert forced me to look at him. “Serena.” His voice was sharp, a tone he rarely used with me, but his brown eyes were warmer than usual. “I didn’t say that was the plan, okay?” He forced a smile, and even though it was small, a shadow of a dimple appeared beneath his freckles. “Just,” he sighed, the familiar expression dissipating. “Encourage everyone to stay inside without warning them about what’s happening. Okay?”

“Okay.”

I said it too quickly. I agreed too soon. And Robert knew it. He froze, gripping my shoulders, and for a moment, I swore I could feel his heartbeat through his hands. His eyes searched mine, but eventually, he broke away and walked down the hallway without another word.

My eyes followed his back, but as he passed Niki, she gained my attention. Her skin was paler than usual, like she understood what Robert had said between the lines. I wasn’t agreeing. And when she turned around to follow him, it was clear that all the older kids had heard it in my tone. Ami stared at the ceiling, and Steven shook his head back and forth. It was only when I looked at Steven that I saw him—Justan—one of the younger ones, listening in on a conversation he wasn’t supposed to hear. I was about to say something when I heard a door click closed near me. I followed the noise to Catelyn’s room. She’d left before I recalled she was there.

I turned away from Justan and the others to follow my practical sister. I didn’t even knock. I entered her room and found her throwing blankets into a bag.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

She didn’t stop. “I could take them,” she ranted. “I could walk right through that gate, and I could—” Her voice cracked as she glanced over. Briauna murmured in her sleep, obviously disturbed by Catelyn’s speech, and Catelyn choked on the fact that she almost woke up the girl.

I grabbed Catelyn’s arm, but I went straight through her. She had lost control, and there was no way I was going to drag her out of the room, so instead, I started unpacking her bag. “You can’t do that and you know it.”

“I’m powerful,” she squeaked. “I—”

“Not in this state,” I stopped her. “And you can’t get everyone through. Maybe one, two people at most, but then what? Where do you go next?” She was shaking, and I was tempted to stop talking, but I knew I couldn’t. She needed to hear the truth. “You can’t just manifest food or shelter.” We didn’t know much about the world outside Vendona, and Vendona kept it that way for a reason.

“But something better has to be out there—”

“What if there is something worse out there?”

Catelyn was in tears now. “I don’t want to die.” She’d already discounted any chance Henderson had at winning.

I pulled her into a hug. “You’re not going to die,” I said, already feeling her tears on my shoulder. “I’ll find you a home. I’ll find you somewhere to live.”

She sniffled, slowly calming down. “What about Steven?”

“Steven, too,” I promised. “And Melody and Timmy and Jake and everyone else.”

Her arms squeezed me before she slowly pushed me back to look at me. Her tears caused the scar on her face to burn redder. “This is why everyone loves you, Serena.”

“What?”

“It’s not because of your powers,” she said before an awkward smile broke her tear-stained face. “I know you think that. You always have. I can tell.” Her blue eyes filled with tears. “But it’s because of you. You’re always so kind, no matter what, and you’ve probably been through more than the rest of us.”

“No I haven’t—”

“You have secrets,” she interrupted, “and that’s okay.” My heart pounded. “We all do.” Her right shoulder rose in a half-shrug. “I let my cat eat table scraps sometimes, and I even saw a mouse the other day.” A broken laugh escaped her. “But you already forgive me, don’t you?”

I blinked, thinking of the tabby cat that followed her around, the one that Robert disliked, the one I secretly cuddled with once or twice. “I was never even mad,” I admitted when I found my voice.

“And that’s why everyone loves you,” she said, squeezing my arm. “That’s why I love you.”

“Catelyn—” My voice went quiet.

“Go home, Serena,” she said. “Go back to your family.”

I shook my head. “You are my family.”

“Then go home where you’re safe.”

“I’m safe right here,” I argued, “and you are too.”

Catelyn leaned forward and pulled me into a hug that felt like it would never end. She was shaking like the first time I met her—when she was ten years old and homeless. We’d become sisters almost instantly, and Robert joked that we were long-separated twins who’d finally reunited, but she never seemed complete until Steven arrived. It was one of the happiest days of my life because it was one of the happiest days of her life. Imagining life without her seemed impossible. She would always be my sister—even above my biological one I had never met. I squeezed her back, wondering if I was naïve to believe in my own words.

“I’m safe right here,” I repeated, feeling the words one more time, not expecting Catelyn to respond when she did.

“Then why do you keep leaving?” she asked, revealing the one question I couldn’t even begin to answer.

I already wanted to leave again.

A few days had passed since the first phone call, and my mind hadn’t stopped racing. Calhoun Wilson—the stranger who saved my life—knew Alec Henderson. They had met as teens, as soldiers in the Separation Movement, and now, Calhoun was convinced his friend could beat the rumor about his missing—and possibly bad-blooded—daughter. That was all I knew. Despite being in the Northern Flock home, Cal kept me at a distance as he waited for the next phone call. It was probably for the better anyway. Blake was sick, really sick, and I knew he had undoubtedly contracted the cold from me. I replaced the wet rag on top of his forehead before leaving him to sleep in our shared room.

With my back pressed against the door, I lingered in the hallway, wondering if I got Serena sick too, but so far, out of my entire flock, the only one who caught it was Blake. I was glad Adam had stocked up on supplies but worried about his uncle, one floor below, creating a plan that was already twisting my gut. My instincts were hardly ever wrong, and my instincts were demanding that I worry. Cal had a plan. But he wasn’t involving me for a reason.

“How is he?” Her voice drifted out of the wall before she solidified from the stretched out shadows. I wondered if Vi felt more normal as a shadow or as a human, but I decided not to ask when she repeated her question, her black eyes searching the door of my room. She loved Blake as much as I did.

“He’ll get better,” I said, waiting for the reason she came to see me. It wasn’t just for Blake. She had checked on him herself five minutes ago. She met my eyes like she understood I knew this. I also knew she had been spying on us. None of the other members knew why Calhoun was in the house, but Vi was like Blake—they knew everything, even when they shouldn’t. Michele too. But the difference between Michele, Blake, and Vi was a simple one to draw. Michele and Blake didn’t mean to spy; it came with their abilities. Vi did. She meant everything she did, and knowing it was wrong, she did it anyway.

“He’s on the phone,” she said, relenting information. Alec had finally called again, and Vi described it like it was a regular conversation. I never bothered reprimanding her for spying. It was one of the reasons I thought she came across as more mature for her age, but I was beginning to believe it was more than that—that, perhaps, Vi was older than she realized—like she hadn’t aged while hiding in the shadows. This time, though, her stare gave me shivers.

She looked away like she could sense my discomfort. “You’re not going to like his plan.”

I didn’t ask for an explanation. I went downstairs and found Cal seated at the dining room table by the bay window. Cal pointed at the chair next to him like he wanted me to sit, and I obeyed.

He never met my eyes as he continued talking in his phone. “We need to replace your daughter with a threat, Alec.” So his daughter was gone. “It can’t just be anyone. Think about it.” Cal tapped his forehead like Alec Henderson sat with us. “If you have just anyone, they’ll prove it. But if you have someone who scares them—who reminds them of what they are doing to Vendona—it will stop them.” He paused, and for a moment, Cal appeared to be the one running for presidency. “You have to fight back. That’s why I called you in the first place.”

Another pause took over, but I quickly heard a deep voice rambling on the other line, too far away to make out the words. That’s when Cal pressed the side button, and the speaker crackled on.

“You’re right,” Henderson said. He was actually talking on the phone. Not on the news. Not during an interview. Not for his campaign. But talking—live—to Cal right now. “I know you’re right, and I trust you more than any man I’ve met, but—”

“The girl who escaped,” Cal interrupted, stopping both Henderson and my heartbeat. “You know you need her.”

“The girl who escaped?” Henderson’s voice rose an octave. “She’s dead.”

I barely heard him. I was too focused on Cal’s eyes. He was staring at me, waiting for my reaction, and I gripped the table in response. It made sense now. Why Calhoun wanted Serena around, why he didn’t want me in the initial conversations, why he didn’t warn me. He wanted Serena to take the place of Henderson’s daughter. He wanted Serena to fight back.

“Hello?” Henderson spoke up after neither of us responded.

Cal widened his eyes at me, begging for a confirmation, but I shook my head. He glared. My grip tightened. Henderson called out again. And I saw Serena, standing in Shadow Alley, a hollowed out version of herself, and I saw Serena now, standing in the same alleyway, holding a flower—still hollow, but more alive than before. Calhoun’s plan made perfect sense. She was a ghost, and her mere presence would haunt them into silence. Serena could win the election for Henderson, for us all.

I nodded, and Cal sighed before he said, “We have her.”

Henderson’s intake of breath was practically a gasp. “They said she was dead.” He exhaled like he had inhaled too much. “Don’t they always,” he muttered. “This is fantastic,” he said. “This is fantastic.” He emphasized the last word, over and over again. “When can she fill in?”

“Will she be safe?” I asked, speaking up for the first time. I knew I shouldn’t have. Calhoun had already made that clear by never announcing my presence in the first place, but I had to know.

A pause followed my question, but Henderson cleared his throat. “Who is this?” he asked, his voice deeper this time, more monotone, like he half-suspected one of his staff members had hacked into his phone line.

“Alec,” Cal started slowly. “You must excuse my…son.”

“Son?” he asked. “But—”

“I told you about him,” Cal interrupted. “Daniel. Daniel Wilson now.”

“Daniel,” he repeated my name carefully, like he’d learned the meaning of my existence over this one-minute phone call. “You’re the Northern Flock boy.”

I wasn’t sure if it was more of a statement or a question, but I said, “Yes, sir.” It was only then that I realized I had spoken to Henderson—actually spoken to Alec Henderson—and I had interrupted him of all things. My throat tightened.

“I want to tell your story too,” he said.

Cal had told Alec everything.

I jumped up, almost knocking the table over, but Cal gripped my wrist like he could force me to calm down. And he did. I sat back down, but I trembled, and my tremors caused the table to rattle. Damn it. I meant to fix the broken leg.

“Daniel,” Cal said my name like it mattered anymore. “It would help him win. You and Serena would help him win—”

My stare silenced him before my words could, and I yanked out of his hold. “You told me this was about Stephanie.” In the two days following the rumor’s break, more information had released, including her full name—Stephanie Mackenzie Henderson—and a photo of her. She was only nine when she was last seen, and she had her mother’s blonde hair and her father’s round face. Aside from her blue eyes, she actually looked like what I imagined Serena would’ve looked like as a child.

“It is about Stephanie,” Cal said, quieter this time, and he pulled a folder off the floor only to slide it across the table. When I didn’t touch it, he opened it, and I stared at a fake ID—much like the one I had—but Serena’s face was on it. How he got her picture, I didn’t know, and I doubted he’d even tell me, but if I had to guess, I would’ve guessed the blood camp’s files. It would’ve been something Alec could get access to, and Serena looked too healthy in the picture for it to have been taken afterward. Her eyes were even brighter, her cheeks rounder. I saw the girl I’d never meet, the one who had to die to make the one I now knew.

“Daniel, my boy,” Henderson said. “Listen. The public needs to see you are human. They need to see your weaknesses, your pain. They need to see their own children in you.” He paused. “And the officials need to see that the blood camp girl survived. That bad bloods won’t die easily, that they will never be forgotten.” Stephanie’s name was next to Serena’s face on the ID. They were already blending together. “We will protect her as Stephanie and guarantee that no one will test her or arrest her again, and we will win with the both of you standing by my side. You have my word.”

I closed my eyes. “I can’t leave my flock.”

“But—”

“I can’t,” I said. “You can use my story, but I can’t leave my flock.”

His breathing was loud, louder than Calhoun’s. “And the girl?”

My eyes squeezed tighter, like they could shut all the images out. Serena. Stephanie. All the others. “I have to talk to her,” I croaked.

“Of course,” Henderson agreed too quickly. “But we only have a couple of days, Daniel.”

I opened my eyes and stared at the phone, still resting in Cal’s gigantic hand.

“You survived because of this,” Henderson said.

I pushed my chair back and stood again. When I looked away from the phone, Cal met my eyes. He nodded, knowing exactly what I had to do, and I did it. I left. And I didn’t know when I’d come back. I just had to go away for a while. And I hoped everyone would forgive me when it came time to return and carry out a plan I never saw coming, a plan that seemed too risky—too good—to work out.

In the few days since the rumor broke, Robert hadn’t allowed anyone to leave the house. That left secret errands up to Catelyn—the only one of us who could walk straight through a wall—and she had left us over an hour ago to pick up ice cream. It was one of the only cheap treats that comforted the youngest children in the flock, and even though they weren’t completely aware of the election, they knew Robert’s containment orders were unusual. In their eyes, something had gone terribly, terribly wrong, and Robert was too busy discussing possibilities with the eldest to calm them down. In the meantime, we were on rotation, and Catelyn and I were assigned to watch the kids, while Steven, Niki, and Ami went over escape routes.

I tried not to think about it as I watched Jake practice his abilities. The dark-haired twelve-year-old normally controlled his doubling abilities with ease, but tonight, a twin of himself bent out of his torso only to snap right back into place. From the corner, Briauna watched, chewing on her fingernails like they would turn to scales too, and Timmy slept in a cot, tucked beneath the stairs. I could only make out bits of his white hair in the darkness, but I knew Melody was sleeping near his feet, curled up like a cat. The only one who didn’t seem cold was Justan. He didn’t shake at all as he focused on Jake. Every time Jake lost control, Justan looked like he was breaking. Justan was one year older than Jake and admired him for his ability to control his powers. The fact that Jake was now struggling must have been shaking Justan’s hope that one day, he too would be able to control himself.

I watched them all carefully, half-expecting Justan to lose it right then and there and cause a wooden-skin spike to shoot across the room at a deathly speed, but nothing of the sort happened. Instead, Justan lost his concentration and looked up. When his eyes widened, I knew someone was standing next to me—even though there wasn’t a door in the basement. Catelyn had walked straight through the wall. When I glanced at her, her pale skin was bitten red by the cold wind outside, the scar on her cheek brighter than any other part of her. Even then, her eyes were what caught my attention. They were glazed over like she had held back tears or seen something she shouldn’t have.

She dropped the bag of food straight on the floor—something she’d been excited about before—and she left it on the ground like it meant nothing. When she made a beeline for the staircase, I shot a smile at the kids.

“I’ll be back,” I promised.

None of them responded; they knew I wouldn’t come back. Still, I chased her, and when I reached her, she was already heading for the next staircase, this one leading upstairs. I grabbed her arm, but she went straight through me, and my stomach sunk. Something was definitely wrong, but she wasn’t going to get rid of me that easily. I was used to her ghostly antics.

I followed her to her bedroom, relieved that Steven was nowhere in sight, and shut the door behind us. “What happened?”

“The main square,” she snapped, like that explained everything.

I pressed my back against her door, waiting for the real explanation.

Her big blue eyes met mine like she wished she didn’t have to tell me what she was about to say. “Daniel.” His name came out in an exhausted whine, and her forefingers pressed against her forehead like she wanted to steal her own memories. “He came up to me, Serena.”

I could barely breathe. “What?”

“I know it was him—mainly because he told me.” Her hand fell to her side in a dramatic thump. “He remembered me from the alleyway,” she hissed the last part, like she was afraid Niki was listening, and then she collapsed on her bed. “I think he thought I was you at first.”

We did look alike—especially when wearing hoods that hid the details—but up close, the scar gave her away, and my gray eyes gave me away. Those were the only traits we didn’t have in common.

“He was”—my hands knotted at my sides—“He was looking for me?”

Catelyn didn’t respond, and I knew she wasn’t telling me something. In fact, she was actually considering not telling me at all. I could see it in her scowl, directed at the floor.

I crossed the room to stand in front of her. I laid my hands on her shoulders and forced her to look at me. “Catelyn.”

“He wants your help with something,” she managed. “I just—I just don’t know about this.” Her voice shook with her head, and her blonde bob swished from side to side. “He’s in the Northern Flock, right? What could he want with you?” She emphasized the last word like a curse, and for once, I wasn’t sure if she was cursing me or him or everyone, but a part me knew it was the latter. She reached up and squeezed my right hand before asking, “Are you leaving us?”

I sighed her name as I sat on the bed next to her. We lingered in silence as I rested my elbow on my knees and placed my head in my hands. I concentrated on breathing before I looked up and stared at the wall. “I need to know what he said,” I managed, but Catelyn didn’t respond. “Did he ask you to tell me a place and a time to meet?”

Catelyn still held back.

“It might have to do with the election,” I pressed, knowing she was well aware of our situation with Henderson’s missing daughter, but Catelyn managed to furrow her brow. Like she could afford skepticism. I gripped her arm. “Daniel has plans.” He had to. “We’re going to get through this together, but I need you to tell me what he said.”

She wasn’t going to talk. I had to resort to horror.

“They kill the boys first.” The executions from the blood camp ran through my veins, but Catelyn’s face paled like all her blood escaped her. “The boys go first,” I repeated, emphasizing what reality we could face. If I had to imagine Daniel’s death, she had to imagine watching Steven’s. “I need to see Daniel, and I need you to trust me.”

Catelyn slumped, but she didn’t budge away from me. “Two days. On Debary’s Lane.”

I normally fled from the echo of approaching footsteps, but tonight was different. Tonight, I was waiting for Serena, and every passing moment of silence increased my desire to be near her. I hadn’t known her for long—barely two weeks—but I couldn’t shake her off my shoulders like I had been able to shake everything else away. No. She stayed just like my scar, forcibly imprinted into me, a reminder that my life would never be the same no matter what I wanted. Even though I wanted her.

I stared at the curve of the ground where Shadow Alley curled into Debary’s Lane, and I knew I was starting over where everything had begun. It was why I wanted her to meet me here—two blocks away from Calhoun’s apartment. I only hoped she knew where it was, right next to Mulberry Street where we met.

“Daniel?”

I blinked, and she suddenly appeared like a ghost. One second, she was nowhere to be seen, and another second, she was right in front of me, inches away. Her hair shimmered like honey beneath the golden lights of the back alleyway, and her gray eyes were two little moons, round and bright in the darkness of night. She tilted her head as if she had been standing in front of me the entire time, waiting for me to respond. Maybe she had been. I might have zoned out. After everything I’d been through, it wasn’t uncommon.

“Are you okay?” she asked, and I realized I had yet to respond to her at all.

I reached out, and my fingertips skimmed her face. She didn’t even flinch. It was almost as if she had been expecting it.

“You’re not okay,” she decided finally, grabbing my hand like that would fix everything. “Me neither.” She started walking down Debary’s Lane, slowly, like we were tiptoeing past a police station, and stopped about halfway through the cobblestone street. It was the first time I’d seen her stand still—ever—and even then, the wind whisked her long blonde hair past her shoulders like a thousand golden threads. I followed her gaze to the red door of a townhome, but she didn’t speak.

“I need to talk to you,” I managed.

“That’s why I’m here.” She kept her eyes on the door. “But why here? Why not at Cal’s?” It came out as a whisper, and I realized “here” meant something to her, that this red door was more than a red door halfway down Debary’s Lane, and the location I had picked was not just meaningful to me.

My stomach sunk. “Whose house is that?”

She glanced over her shoulder, and I knew what she would say before she said it. “My parents live here.”

I wanted to freeze—to mask my expression—but I knew she saw what I felt. My mouth had opened, only slightly, and my neck had popped as I looked down the street, straight at the fence, right where Cal had saved my life all those years ago.

“What is it?” Serena asked, and when I looked at her, I could see we felt the same. This wasn’t a coincidence. It couldn’t be. I just didn’t know what it all meant, other than we lived in a small town of corruption and death but had somehow never met one another until now.

I shoved my hands into my pockets. “We should start walking.”

She sighed, an indicator that she heard all of my thoughts in my four words. For once, I didn’t have any answers for her.

I started walking, knowing she’d follow, and she did, quickly catching up to my side. “Where are we going?”

“I’m going to show you my house.”

“I could’ve just met you there—”

“The Northern Flock’s house,” I corrected. “Not Cal’s.”

She stumbled, almost as if she had to fight herself from stopping right there in the middle of the street. Automatically, I touched her arm, and my touch became a support—something I didn’t pull away as she shakily wrapped her arm around mine. Neither one of us moved away for a moment, and in that moment, I swore neither of us took a breath. But the jittery clumsiness wavered as we continued to walk together to Northern Vendona. Even then, her grip never loosened, her fingernails pressing against my jacket, and I waited a moment and allowed her to collect her thoughts. I didn’t want to freak her out—not before I even had a chance to explain the real reason I was meeting her. That would cause enough freaking out for the evening.

“I know what you’re thinking,” I started slowly, “but I’m not going to ask you to join my flock.” Her grip loosened. “I just want you to see where we live so you know you can trust me.”

“I already trust you,” she said, and I glanced down at her, wishing she hadn’t said it right before I would risk shattering everything we had, but all I could add was two words.

“I know.”

***

“That’s it,” I said, pointing down the hill. Michele had left the lights on just as I had asked, but most of our neighbors were still awake too. Compared to the rest of Vendona, Northern Vendona was squished together like there weren’t hundreds of acres to build upon elsewhere. “The one in the middle.” It looked like all the rest, a plain brown box.

“I see it,” Serena said, but when I looked at her, she was looking at me. “What’s this about?”

Showing a flock’s house to another bad blood was a risk—a huge risk—and I wanted her to know that when I asked her to go with the Hendersons. I wanted her to know I was taking a risk too. But I needed to find a better way to explain it, a way to show how important she was, and I wasn’t going to do that by standing on the hill overlooking my house. I knew where I had to take her.

“Follow me?” I asked, catching her rolling her eyes before following me again.

This time, though, it didn’t take us long to get to our destination. It was an abandoned watchtower of some sort—like a lighthouse without any water near it. I had never asked Calhoun what it used to be, but it had a name etched into the side, too scratched to read but not scratched enough to be completely invisible. The structure didn’t have a door on it, and I half-expected Serena to question me when I entered the building, but she quietly climbed each stair with the same rhythm as me. Everyone else I had brought here asked if it was safe. I was the only one who knew the top was the most dangerous part. The view could kill someone with envy. But Serena didn’t seem to mind where we were going. In fact, she hummed—like we were out in a field of flowers and not on a rickety staircase—and her song echoed around the creaking, metal stairs. I doubted I could ever climb the stairs again without hearing her voice surround me.

I closed my eyes, knowing the stairs well enough to make it to the top without looking, but Serena must have thought her humming bothered me because she stopped. She cleared her throat like she choked on her thoughts, but she still asked, “How’d you find Catelyn?”

“Catelyn?” As I repeated the name, I remembered the blonde girl in the main square, the one who had disappeared straight through the fence. She could’ve been Serena’s twin. In fact, I thought she was Serena until I grabbed her shoulder and she jumped. The hood of her green jacket fell off, and I think it took everything in both of us not to start fighting right there. Bad bloods were aggressive like that.

“Her name is Catelyn,” Serena said after a moment, and I realized—once again—I hadn’t responded. I’d been too consumed by my own thoughts ever since I spoke to Henderson. “Steven’s her boyfriend.”

“The one I punched?” I asked. Serena nodded, and a half-laugh escaped me. “I’ll have to make up for that.”

She tensed like I had just invited myself over to her house.

I sighed, but kept climbing up the stairs. “I was looking for you,” I explained, trying not to give anything away. Not yet. “I figured I could find you if I waited in the main square long enough.” As the words left me, I realized I sounded like a serial stalker, or worse, an animal hunting prey, but Serena stayed by my side.

I glanced over, looking her up and down, catching a glimpse of her rosy cheeks as moonlight streamed in through the various, broken windows.

“What are the others like?” I asked to prevent any more silence.

Serena’s gray eyes flicked over to me. “Well”—she breathed—“we have twelve like you. Our youngest is Melody. She’s only four.”

“She’s younger than Blake.” It only took his name to remind me that he was back at home, sick and recovering.

“Blake sort of reminds me of Huey,” she mentioned another name I didn’t recognize. “He’s one of our latest members. Briauna just joined this year. Um. We have Justan and Jake and Ami.” She paused. “I don’t like Niki very much.”

“Who’s Niki?”

“Red eyes.” She cringed as I remembered the girl who followed me in to Old Man Gregory’s. “Doesn’t really matter though. She doesn’t like me that much either. I think—”

We reached the top and I pushed the final door open. Cold wind blasted past us, and Serena shivered, but I doubted it was from the cold. She stepped outside onto the metal walkway and grabbed the railing separating her from a six-story fall to the rocky ground. It was one of the only places in Vendona where you could see the Highlands.

Skyscrapers of every shape and color draped across the midnight horizon. The bright lights—usually seen as a purple haze from the outskirts—clouded out all the stars, but each building radiated like it was a star all on its own, equally as beautiful as it was mysterious. No one was just allowed to go into the Highlands. I had never been there myself. You generally had to be born into it. I often wondered what it was like, walking from giant building to giant building, but I mainly wondered what we looked like from their perspective. From the top of their towers, I bet we looked like brown stones, squished together in a smog of destruction. It was this exact reason that caused me to concentrate on Serena’s face instead of the looming city. She had never seen it before, and her face was glowing like she had already moved there and absorbed all the light they lived in.

“Wow,” she exhaled. “You can really see it from up here.” Her eyebrows furrowed for a split second. “Can you see the Western Flock’s field from here?”

“No.”

She didn’t turn around to check for herself. She just stared at me, and I knew what she saw. I had already tried to see it. The fact that you couldn’t see it was one of the reasons I loved the location so much. I also loved looking at the Highlands. As much as it made me feel sick inside, it reminded me of all we were striving for. It reminded me of how we could break down the gate one day. It reminded me of how close we all were. Human or bad blood, rich or poor, we all lived under the same Vendona sky.

I had to turn around and look back at the sight to gain the strength I needed. If she agreed to what I was about to ask her to do, she wouldn’t even be that far away. She would be able to see us from her tower, and we could see her tower from ours. She might even be able to tell me what we looked like one day.

I gripped the railing, my left hand next to her right one. “Did you hear about the rumor?” I asked.

She nodded, taking the time to sit down on the landing. She even kicked her feet off the edge, like falling was the least of her worries, and I joined her. Serena never took her eyes off the city, and I wondered if she was looking at the towers, guessing which one the Hendersons lived in, guessing which one their daughter went missing from. When she shivered, I scooted closer to her.

“Cold?” I asked.

“A little,” she admitted.

The nights had gotten chillier. It was probably the coldest and earliest winter in years, but I doubted it would snow. Vendona hadn’t seen snow in twelve years. Still, I draped my arm around her shoulders and pulled her into my chest like I had the ability to keep her warm. She leaned against me, even placing her hand on my leg, and shivered once more.

“I’m sure his daughter…” She lost her words. “Stephanie will make an appearance and clear everything up.” She gazed at the city like she could see it happening.

“She might,” I agreed, trying to find my own words, but every approach seemed wrong. I could practically feel my opportunity to ask her blowing away in the wind. “What’s your flock planning?”

Serena bit her lip, and I followed her eyes past Northern Vendona, past the gate, the border, and the fields stretching beyond our vision. Southern Vendona—her home—was on the other side. “I don’t know what we’re doing,” she admitted, and I tried to picture all the kids she’d mentioned only moments before, but they were silhouettes, outlines of people I didn’t know but might have passed on the street.

“What’s your flock doing?” she asked me when I didn’t respond.

This was my chance. This was what Calhoun wanted me to do. This was how we saved Vendona, and all I could do was kiss her.

She squeaked, as if I surprised her, but then her hand wrapped around my shirt, and she slowly inched away from me. Her breath fogged out in front of her, and her cheeks burned, rosier than before. “Daniel?” Her gray eyes even looked blue—like Stephanie Henderson’s—and I reached into my front pocket for the fake ID I had stolen from Calhoun. He hadn’t even noticed I snatched it when I left.

“We have a plan,” I started, hearing my own words as if someone else was saying them. My voice sounded deeper than I remembered it being.

“Are you running?” Serena asked, reading the concern on my face, but I shook my head.

“No.” I shoved the ID in her hands. “Our plan involves you.”

She gripped it before looking. “What—” As her eyes traveled down, her words stopped. She stared at the photo of herself—her past self—and her grip turned white. For a moment, I had forgotten she couldn’t read. She had no way of knowing her new name was Stephanie Mackenzie Henderson. So I told her.

I began with Michele’s premonition, how she thought something bad would happen to Henderson, how we believed it was a gunshot, but how it turned out to be a rumor. I continued with Cal’s office, his history. I told her about his talking to Alec Henderson—the real Alec Henderson—over the phone, not once but twice, and I ended it with their plan. She was going to take Stephanie’s place. Even though most would see Stephanie, many would realize it was Serena and enough would suspect it. Serena’s presence would break them all by reminding them of their cruelty and their inability to get rid of bad bloods. Serena could save us. She just had to agree to it.

This is why you survived, Alec Henderson’s words repeated in my head, too loud to continue speaking, but it was something I wanted to say to Serena too. Maybe we both survived for a reason, but it sounded childish and naïve to say we could make a change when such a large city sat right in front of us, when we were so small and invisible against it, but Serena looked right at me—ignoring the Highlands like it was the one that was invisible, and it was only invisible because I sat in front of her.

“Say something,” I managed, practically gasping, and her bottom lip trembled, only for her to bite it. I scooted away from her, hoping she’d look away from me and back at the city—the place she now belonged—but her eyes followed me like she’d never look away. “Serena—”

“The gunshot,” she interrupted, focusing on the one part I tried to disregard. “Is it still going to happen?” When I didn’t respond immediately, she nodded, but her nod took her gaze to the city. Her mouth opened, closed again, and opened once more. “What if something bad happens to our flocks?”

Serena never thought of herself. As little as I knew her, I knew she wasn’t worried about something bad happening to her. All the bad things had already happened to her. She was thinking of the others—all the others—even my flock. That question alone confirmed she needed to be the one to go.

“Don’t you remember what I said?” I asked, drawing out the question slowly, delicately. “About you taking our stories into the future?”

“Why are you saying that like you’re not going to be in it?” Her misty eyes were slits.

“Michele’s premonition—”

“A gunshot, I remember.”

I tried to breathe, to calm down, but my head spun. “Something bad is going to happen, Serena.” I couldn’t lie to her. Not even once. And the truth made her stand up.

I leapt to my feet and grabbed her hand. “Wait.”

“Why should I?” she asked, her voice sharp and loud. I wanted to respond, but I was transfixed. Her blonde hair shot out in the wind and surrounded her like a bright aura in paintings I’d only seen in Cal’s books. When she yanked her hand away from me, I realized she was still holding the ID. It flickered as it caught the city’s reflection, and I half-expected her to toss it over the tower’s edge, but she gripped onto it. She repeated her question, but she looked far away—like a person I couldn’t possibly reach, like the girl in the alleyway I practically forced to stay with me, and now, I was trying to force her to go away. That meant abandoning her flock, her family, during a time that we knew a gun was going to go off. Someone would probably die, and I asked her to let it happen for a greater cause we didn’t have a premonition about.

She spun away. “That’s what I thought.” When she marched for the exit, I shot forward and slammed the door shut before she could open it far enough to slip through.

My hands were on either side of her body, her back pressed against mine, and her hair smelled sweet, like expensive soap, like she could actually wash the outskirts of Vendona off her. I laid my forehead on her shoulder because I couldn’t look at her anymore, not even at the back of her head.

She didn’t budge. “I need to leave, Daniel.” Each word was taut.

When she tried to open the door again, her back bumped into my chest, but I kept the exit shut. “I need you to leave,” I agreed, but in a totally different way. I needed her to leave with the Hendersons, not to leave and return to the Southern Flock. “I need you to go with them.”

“No.”

“Serena.”

“I said no.”

I grabbed her shoulders and spun her around. Her once moonlit eyes were now the dark sides of the moon, but the ID remained in her hand until she shoved it against my chest. “Take. It. Back.”

“I—” I shook my head, refusing to take back her safety ticket out of here, the only winning ticket bad bloods had to survive the election. Instead, I thought of the last way I could convince her to go. “I love you.”

I was desperate—so desperate—to see everyone survive, to see her survive, to know we all meant something, that our suffering meant something, but Serena was the only one who had the opportunity to prove it. I had waited to prove it my entire life, but I never considered my only option would come in the form of a bad-blooded blonde. And as much as I wanted her in my life, I had to give her up if any of us were going to live at all. That was how bad bloods’ lives went. We sacrificed everything to survive, and anything we didn’t sacrifice ourselves, we lost anyway. I should’ve seen it coming from the moment I met her. But all I could say was “I love you.”

“What?” Her glare disappeared, replaced with a furrowed brow and a shaking head. “No.” She pointed at my chest and tried to back up even though she was already against the wall. This time, I stepped away to give her more room, but she didn’t try to leave. “Don’t you dare.” Her voice shook as much as she did. “You’re not going to use that against me.”

“Use it against you?” My heart pounded in my ears. “I mean it, Serena.”

“You can’t,” she said, now pointing at herself. “You’ve known me two weeks. Two weeks, Daniel. You can’t love me.”

“If I can die in two weeks, I can love you in two weeks.”

All the color in her face drained out. The election was in two weeks. It would decide if Vendona could ramp up their execution rates on bad bloods, and if Logan II won, I would surely die. So would my flock. So would Serena’s flock. If I were a regular human, maybe I wouldn’t love her. I probably wouldn’t have even met her. But my life was short, and my feelings happened fast. I wasn’t going to waste the rest of the little time I had pretending we had the chance to fall in love gradually. We didn’t. She was it, and she was in front of me, and she could survive, and that opportunity—her ability to care despite everything—was why I loved her, and it was exactly what I was also taking advantage of. I hated myself. But I had to do it. Survival did that to people. Love did that to people. And I needed her to feel both of those things to remind her why she needed to do this. Her loved ones would get to live too.

Her aggressive expression crumbled, and she touched her face like she could force her glare to remain, but it didn’t. “Why would you say that?” she asked, covering her eyes with her jacket’s sleeve and arching her neck to face the sky. The idea of any of us dying would push her. I knew that much about her. Maybe she was right. Maybe she did absorb our souls.

“You can save them,” I added, quieter this time. “No one has to die.”

Her face lowered, and she peeked over her forearm at me. “Is that what’s supposed to happen?”

“I don’t know.” My shoulders fell. “Michele doesn’t know either, but I don’t want you around when it happens.” No one would want Serena to die. She was too valuable as the only bad blood that knew both the Northern Flock members and the Southern Flock members, not to mention the blood camp victims. If she was the only one left, she could share everything, but if she died, we would all die with her. “I would only blame myself if something happened to you.”

“You can’t love me.”

“Then give me a chance to in the future,” I said, finally surrendering as I reached out and grabbed her hand with the ID in it. “I want to have the chance to love you, to get to know you, to spend time with you, to see the others meet someone like you.” I pulled her into a hug, and she buried her face into my jacket. “I want to live past this, and I want you to live too,” I whispered against her golden hair. “This is a solution for all of us. Help Henderson. Please.”

She leaned back, but her hand stayed curled up in my shirt, her right one against my heart. “And what am I supposed to say to my flock?” Her voice wavered. “What about my family?”

“We’ll come up with something.”

“And after the election?” she pressed. “Then what?”

“You stay with the Hendersons. You’ll have a life.”

She shook her head. “I don’t want that life.”

“Then you can slowly disappear again,” I suggested. “Stephanie hasn’t been seen for years. It isn’t rare for rich people to travel outside of Vendona.” I paused before adding, “I’m sure Henderson has a plan.”

“We should know the whole plan before we move forward.”

“We don’t have that kind of time.” We never did.

“How many weeks?”

“Days,” I corrected. “They’ll pick you up in four days.” She started to shuffle away again, but I touched her face to catch her eyes. “It’s the only way we might win this.”

She looked past me—right at the city—and I half-expected her to disappear, to become the ghost she thought she was, but then she saw me again. “I’ll do it,” she said, her gaze ablaze with the reflection of the Highlands. “Under one condition.”

It had only been a few hours since I left Daniel standing in Shadow Alley, him to return to his flock, me to return to mine. But my flock wouldn’t be mine forever. And I had always known that—deep in my bad blood veins—but I hadn’t truly realized it until I was staring at my old face, safely immortalized by a fake ID.

The paperwork remained clutched in my hands, despite the fact that Daniel had stolen it from Calhoun. I coaxed him into allowing me to take it to Robert as proof, and he relented, even though I had already asked him for one more favor in return for my replacing Stephanie. One favor I was surprised he agreed to. One favor I now had to get Robert to agree to.

How I had thought about my one condition, I didn’t know, but I knew it was right. My gut had desired it from the beginning. And now, I had twenty-four hours to get a note back to Daniel’s house, confirming or denying Robert’s role. Still, the fact I was going through with it—taking Stephanie’s place, standing by Henderson’s side, mocking the policemen who arrested me, fighting the city that tortured me—churned my stomach with both fear and delight. I calmed myself by thinking of Daniel’s eyes, how the Highlands disappeared when he looked at me. How everything disappeared.

Damn the way he had control of me.

Shivers ran up my spine as I stared at my house, a house I wouldn’t be in for much longer if my plan worked out. And my plans hardly ever did. It was the reason I’d spent an extra hour wandering the streets aimlessly.

My heart pounded as I opened the front door and stepped inside. I already knew what awaited me. When I saw the lights were on, I knew Robert had realized I was missing—again. I left the house against his orders, after all. I expected him. I always did. But I hadn’t expected the entire flock to be waiting. Quite the welcome home party.

Robert stood at the front of the pack. “Close the door.”

I pressed my back against the cool wood, and it slowly creaked shut. I snaked my hand behind me, locking the front door and sliding the ID into my jeans pocket. My eyes studied the room with quick precision. Huey with Timmy. Jake with Justan. Briauna on the couch with the cat. Ami hovering near her, clutching an invisible Melody. Steven sat on the stairs, one hand on Catelyn’s shoulders, and when I looked at Catelyn, her cheeks flushed.

“You told?” I guessed.

“I’m sorry—” She tried to stand up, but Steven held her down. He never wanted her to get involved. Part of him denied she already was.

Robert stomped his right foot to get my attention. “I trusted you not to leave right now.” His voice rumbled like he was preventing himself from screaming. His brown hair stuck up like he already had.

I took a breath before choosing my words. “I had to.”

“You had to return to your parents?”

My brow furrowed, and I realized my mistake. Catelyn had lied—saying I left to see my parents instead of Daniel—but Robert knew me better than anyone did. I twitched. That was all it took.

Robert looked between Catelyn and me, his narrowed eyes widening and his brow loosening. His intense demeanor shifted as his shoulders fell, and when he looked at me, he leaned back as if he suddenly lost his vision and couldn’t see me clearly. “Who’d you go meet?” His deep voice was calm, too calm. I knew him well enough to know what calm meant. It only happened when he thought he’d lose control of his powers.

I swallowed. “I went to see my family.”

His gaze searched mine, and even though I knew he could hear my lies, he sighed. Maybe he wanted to believe me. Either way, I wanted to speak with him alone.

He pressed the space on either side of his nose and shut his eyes. “Being your parents barely constitutes a family,” he muttered as some of the kids inched toward the basement door. “We’re your family; they abandoned you.”

It was the way he said it—so confident, so practiced and scripted. It was the line we told every one of our bad bloods whenever they tried to leave, and we said it because it was true. Normally. It wasn’t true for me. Robert said it to me to unite us, but I couldn’t be united anymore. We wouldn’t survive that way.

“I ran away.” The words slipped out of me with ease, and Robert straightened up, partially raising his hand as if he were close enough to slap it over my mouth to silence me. But he wasn’t. “I only ran away because I met you, remember?”

His face flushed, and the room began to warm up. “You came on your own freewill.”

“I was five, Robert.” I spread my fingers out so he could see them. “Five,” I repeated. “I didn’t have freewill.”

The room grew hotter. One kid whined, but Robert’s glare was on me. “So now I kidnapped you, too?”

I didn’t yell back. He didn’t kidnap me. I knew that. I would’ve run away another day if I hadn’t met him that night. But he did take me, and he never acknowledged it and I hadn’t either. The conversation was a long time coming.

“What do you think your family would’ve done once they found out you were a bad blood?” he snapped under the years of silence. “Your father was a cop.”

He was the only person I had told other than Daniel, but I had told Daniel another detail I had never told Robert. “They already knew.” As I said it, he stepped back like I had hit him. I stepped after him. “And they leave me presents on their doorstep. And I have a sister. And I would know her name if I could read their letters.”

“Letters?”

I yanked it out of my pocket, the one that didn’t hold my fake ID, and I shook it in front of me. “Letters,” I confirmed, hearing my voice scratch against my throat. “They’ve always wanted me back, and I’ve stayed here. They—”

“Give me that.” He held out his hand like I’d actually hand it over.

I shoved it back in my pocket as a response.

His hand fell, and his head dropped with it. The heat is what rose. His anger and the heat. His powers scattered tiny heat waves across the living room. One of the kids cried. Someone else pulled them toward the basement. Robert’s fingers shook. I wasn’t budging.

“You will stop seeing them or you will stop seeing us,” Robert said, finally.

Steven shot up. “You can’t do that—” Even he knew who I’d choose, but Steven silenced when Robert held his palm up.

Robert, with one flick of his hand, could blow anything up. Walls. Cars. People. But Robert would never aim at Steven. He would never aim at any of us. And he dropped his hand as soon as he raised it, as if—for one second—he forgot how the normally harmless gesture could kill someone. Now, he folded his arms across his T-shirt, his brown eyes darker than I remembered. “You broke my trust.”

“I’m not the one who broke the trust,” I snapped. He hadn’t kicked me out after escaping a blood camp, but he was trying to after I saw my parents. His reasoning was unreasonable. He was unreasonable. And while I thought we were all liars, sinners, and murderers, Robert pretended he wasn’t. “You lied to us.”

His eyebrows shot up. “Lied to you? About what?”

“The Northern Flock?” It left my throat in a scream. “The horrible leader? The wicked group of children more dangerous than the government?” Robert paled with each list. “Bullshit.”

I turned on my heel to leave the house, but Niki blocked the front of the door, and before I could shove the minion away, Robert grabbed my arm. I twisted out of his grip, and he stumbled back, placing his hands in front of his chest like he hadn’t meant to scare me.

He lowered them slowly, staring at me like I was a wild animal—not a bad blood—and I realized most of the world didn’t see a difference anyway.

“What?” he stuttered. “What are you talking about?”

“I met them, Robert,” I sighed, nearly stomping my own foot on the ground. “All of them.”

Silence engulfed us, even though the entire flock was standing around us, listening, watching, and in them, I saw Daniel’s flock. Ami looked like the doll version of Vi. Ryne and Jake were nearly identical. Briauna might have been friends with Kally. And Robert stared back at me, reminding me of one person.

“They are just like us,” I squeaked. “They are just as young and powerful and weak and messed up as us.” The words tumbled out of me, frantic. “They should be our allies—”

“Get out.” Robert jabbed his finger at the door. “Get. Out.”

“No.”

“No?” Robert’s pointing hand never fell. It shook as he yelled, “This is my house.”

“I killed them too!” I yelled back. “Or have you forgotten the family that lived here?” The memories flooded back, one by one, the dog, the mom, the dad, the kid. “Don’t you remember how I—”

“Shut up.”

“What?” I wouldn’t shut up. “You can expose me all you want, but I’m expected to keep your secrets locked up?” I would never be locked up again. Not even for Robert.

“Stop,” he said, quieter this time. “Stop right now.”

“Tell them how you were covered in blood that night.”

Robert paled.

I gestured to everyone. “I could tell them if you want.”

The door exploded. One second, it was as cold as snow, like all the heat evaporated, and the next, the house was boiling, and wood scattered everywhere. Niki screamed. Others ducked. And I was perfectly still, only looking down as a piece of the splintered door slid across the wood floor. It stopped against my shoe.

When I looked up, Robert looked back at me—his brown eyes as wide as they had been that night. His cheek even bled. I could see him. I could see that night.

Steven grabbed Robert’s arm, somehow crossing the room in all the chaos. “What the hell is wrong with you?” he asked, spitting at his own leader. When he looked at me, his hazel eyes were slits. “You too.”

Robert slumped out of Steven’s grip and almost fell to the floor. Steven grabbed a nearby chair and put Robert in it. Our leader gripped the edges like he had to hold himself in.

Steven watched him watching me. I looked at everyone. Melody sat on the floor now, screaming her lungs out, tears flowing down her round cheeks, and Ami checked each kid for injuries. None of them were bleeding. They had been too far away. But Niki was right next to the door, and her bicep was cut, deeper than Robert’s face was. I wondered if I had been hurt, but I didn’t feel anything. Robert looked at me like he had the opposite problem; he felt too much.

“We could get caught,” Niki hissed, ignoring her own injury as her red eyes darted around the room, searching for a way to cover the door.

Steven was already stretching out a piece of wood, forming it with his powers to replace it. Another chair, turned into a door. “We’ll be fine,” he said. “As long as we refrain from killing each other,” he added.

“She’s the one exposing us to the enemy,” Robert said it like a child would, in a half-hearted, defeated sneer.

“Don’t,” Steven warned, but Robert persisted.

“Isn’t that who you were with? The Northern Flock?” Robert asked, a twitching frown shooting across his lips when I didn’t respond. “You’re one of them now, right? Or isn’t it Daniel that saved you from the camp? At least say it to my face.”

His words did nothing to me. “Is that why you follow him?”

“He’s in the Northern Flock, Serena,” Robert said every word slowly, like it mattered, but he failed to recognize that it didn’t. The flocks were the same.

“You’re right,” I agreed. “And they’re the ones who are going to save us.”

Robert leaned back at this, finally releasing his chair, but it was Steven who leapt between us and demanded more answers. “What are you talking about?”

“The rumor? The one about Henderson’s daughter?” I didn’t look at Robert as I explained. “Henderson wants a replacement, and he wants me to do it.”

“What?” Robert’s voice cracked.

“And Daniel’s friend set it up,” I said, catching his eyes over Steven’s shoulder. “Do you know what I told him?” Robert froze like he was actually conjuring a response, but I didn’t give him time to. “I told him I’d only do it if you two saw each other again—if you could stop hating each other—because all I could think about was you.” I was shouting again, but this time, Steven was holding me back and Robert could only stare. “All I could think about was how much this flock needs you and how much you need an ally if I’m gone.”

Robert tensed, and his bottom lip opened up like he wanted to speak but couldn’t.

“We’re all going to die if you two can’t be allies.” My voice wavered. The idea of either of them dying killed me. It didn’t matter how much we fought. Robert and I raised one another. I loved him as much as I could love anyone, but the opportunity Daniel gave me would allow me to keep loving people.

Robert’s glower deepened as he processed my words. “We…” he started, his voice trembling before he glared at the wall. “I don’t need allies.”

I studied him, trying to imagine what was happening behind his forced glare, but I only saw emptiness. It was impossible to fathom what caused them to hate one another so much they’d allow others to die for it, and I didn’t even care to think about it anymore. I was too tired. I was done guessing.

“If you don’t need allies, then you don’t need me.”

I stomped toward the empty space where the door used to be, and Niki tried to stop me. Her blood even smeared on my arm as I brushed her off and stepped out onto the front porch.

“Where are you going?” she asked as if she had the right to know.

“Like you care.”

“It’s too cold,” she said it like she did care. “Don’t leave.”

Her thick dreads blended in with the night, but her beady red eyes cut right through it. I tried to recall the moment she started hating me, when our relationship changed, but she only reminded me of Robert, and I realized everything reminded me of Robert. Even Daniel.

Robert was a shadow in all of my memories—helping me with my powers, coaxing me out of my fears, welcoming me home over and over again—and I wanted him to continue to be in my memories. It was the singular reason I wanted Daniel and him to meet again. I wanted Robert to live, and if you wanted to survive Vendona, you had to make every sacrifice possible. But Robert wouldn’t do it, and I wondered if Robert wanted to live at all. It was then I realized why he reminded me of Daniel, why Daniel was so familiar when I met him. They were like me—already dead—and we had nothing left to do but die again. So I did what I always did.

I ran like death waited with open arms.

I didn’t go back to the Northern Flock’s house. I didn’t go to Calhoun’s house or even my parents’ house. In fact, I didn’t even know where I was going until I ended up there.

The only bridge in Eastern Vendona supposedly helped cars pass over a flood point in the countryside leading up to the ocean, but I’d never seen the water. During the winter, the concrete space only collected cold air and cold stares. Despite the poor population of Vendona, most citizens somehow justified judging the homeless, and I imagined I looked homeless beneath the eastern bridge. In the thirty-six hours that passed (I knew this, because you could see a clock tower in the Highlands from the bridge), I realized one thing: Niki was right. It was too cold, and curling up didn’t help. The only thing that would help was Robert, snuggled up next to me, the way we had stayed warm when we were kids.

At first I thought I was hallucinating, that I was only imaging Robert there with me, but then my once-numb muscles began to ache as they warmed up. My fingertips burned as they found his coat, preparing to push him away, but I couldn’t help but clutch onto him, shaking. I was so cold. Too cold. And he was a born heater. His powers always made him warm, and I was too frozen to pull away.

“Just warm up,” Robert said, his breath skimming my cheek, his fingers stroking my hair.

I closed my eyes and listened to him. His voice had deepened over the years, and his arms were stronger, larger now. But he still sat the same way, his right leg propped up in a bend, his left leg curled under me, his arm wrapped around either side of me after he pulled me into his lap. He always rested his chin in the cranny of my neck. It hurt, but I never told him. I was always afraid he’d move away then.

“Everyone’s out looking for you,” he said it like he wasn’t sure if he should, like I’d beg him to leave me to get the others back inside. “I should’ve known you’d come here.”

We’d stayed here in the beginning, after all. It was practically my home, even if we lived off the streets for years after that night.

“Do you know why I took you?” he asked, causing our first night to flood in like liquid fire through my veins. I wasn’t sure if it was his powers or mine, but I knew both of our emotions were out of control. Everything was. Our lives were complete chaos, and it all started on that night. But he never knew why I was sitting on my front porch, and I never knew why he was covered in blood. I just knew we ran.

“I needed somebody,” Robert explained, his voice faltering on the last word. “I needed a reason to stay alive.” He skimmed my chin with his hands, and I caught his eyes, shadows of themselves. “You did too.”

I clung to him, regaining all the feeling in my muscles. Still, my throat ached when I found my voice. “What happened that night?”

His brown eyes softened, but his hand never left my chin. “You don’t remember?”

I couldn’t say if I did or not.

“I suppose I’ve always known that,” he decided, dropping his hand from my chin. He stared at the ground like Vendona would swallow us up. “You don’t want to remember.”

My mind was blank as I reached back into my pocket and yanked out my new ID. Before I could hesitate, I grabbed his hand and placed the ID in his palm. His eyes locked on it, his expression never budging. Vendona had swallowed us up a long time ago.

“I can save everyone,” I said, even though there was no guarantee.

His shoulders tensed, but air escaped him in a painful sigh.

“I can save everyone by going,” I pressured, latching onto his arm with both of my hands, even though I was about to ask him to do the opposite. “You have to let me go.”

Robert’s grip tightened on the ID, and he ran a finger over my photo—my old face, the one I had before the blood camp sucked away twenty of my pounds and the light in my eyes. His lips twitched into a small smile, but it disappeared. He lowered his hand, the ID scraping the ground, and turned to look at me. A crease appeared above his nose.

“They’ll recognize you,” he said.

“That’s why he wants me.”

The crease deepened. “Dan—” he paused. “Daniel didn’t pick you?”

“Henderson did.”

Robert didn’t even flinch. “And how does Daniel feel about it?”

Heat raced up my neck, and for once, I knew it wasn’t from Robert’s powers. Just the thought of Daniel had the same effect on me as Robert did, but Robert had to be physically close. Daniel could be anywhere.

Robert’s gaze moved over my neck like he could see it, and a part of me wondered if he did. He wouldn’t be the first bad blood to witness the world in a unique way. He might have been able to see heat waves. I didn’t know. I didn’t know a lot. But Robert looked at my neck like he knew everything.

“You’ve met him more than once, haven’t you?” he guessed.

“I—” I bit my lip, looked at the ground, and nodded, a quick and small nod, like the smaller it was, the less I betrayed my flock.

Robert was silent, but I couldn’t bring myself to look at him. He was practically my brother. I’d known him since I was five, and nearly every memory of mine revolved around him in some way—the good and the bad. He was there when I lost my last tooth. He was there when I learned how to pick pockets. He was there when I started a fight with the wrong person. He was there to stitch me up, and he was there to teach me how to fight better. Robert was always there.

“Does he love you?”

Robert’s question slammed against all of my memories—even the one where he stole a doll for Catelyn and me to play with—and I realized I was looking up at him, even though he had disappeared for a moment. Daniel had replaced him, standing on top of the northern tower, saying I love you, saying he wanted a chance to love me, the city burning behind him like an infinite fire waiting to turn us all to ash.

“He—he can’t,” I managed, unable to use Daniel’s name as Robert’s face slid into focus.

His eyes widened like I said the opposite, and his hands reached out, gripping onto my shoulders like he could never let me go. He pulled me against his chest, and either his, mine, or both of our hearts pounded between us. “I took you,” he said, burying his face in my neck. “I know I took you.” My neck began to feel wet.

Robert’s shoulders bounced once, and his breath skimmed my bones in a shivering sob. I clutched him back, hugging him, and realized the only other time I’d seen him cry was in this exact spot—under the eastern bridge all those years ago. My grip tightened, barely able to wrap around him. He was so much bigger than he used to be. He was so much older. We were kids. Just kids.

“I took it all from you,” he said. My life. My freedom. My family.

“I didn’t deserve it anyway.”

“You did,” he said it like it was a fact, an inarguable thing.

But it wasn’t true. I didn’t deserve it. It was the one secret I had. The reason I could never go back, and I opened my mouth to tell him when he interrupted me.

“I’ll meet him again,” he said. “I’ll meet Daniel.”

“You’re joking,” Adam’s tone sounded like a joke itself. So did his question.

I shook my head. “She wants me to meet Robert.”

It was Serena’s one condition. It was the only way she’d leave with the Hendersons, and it was the one thing I told myself I would never volunteer for again. Robert and I were enemies. Maybe it was a strong word. Maybe it wasn’t strong enough. I hated him, and he hated me, and hate was the only thing we had in common—other than Serena.

“At least we have something in common,” I muttered, rubbing my temples.

“You have more in common than her,” Adam said it without saying why out loud. When I didn’t respond, he tapped the table to get my attention. His black eyes looked so much like Calhoun’s. His reaction was almost the same too. “How could she expect you to do that?”

I muttered an explanation, but Adam didn’t hear me. “She doesn’t know,” I repeated, louder this time.

“Doesn’t know what?” Tessa asked, crawling onto Adam’s lap like he was a couch. He didn’t move, almost like he was a couch, and when he did move, it was to push her braids over her shoulders so they weren’t in his face. The two long strands landed on the table in front of them. “What don’t she know?”

Being nine, Tessa didn’t even care if she didn’t know what she was saying. The sound of her voice was her favorite sound. It was probably the reason she needed saving in the first place. She’d been mouthing off to a cop in the main square when Adam found her. Where her parents were, I didn’t know, but the world really wanted to kill the little girl with plant powers.

“Know what?” Tessa pressed, looking over her shoulder at Adam, then to me, her earthy brown eyes matching her powers and her complexion.

Adam patted her dark hair to quiet her. He was the only one who could do that, and I knew why. Other than being her savior, Tessa related to Adam. He could run as fast as lightning, and she could speed up the growing process. Both moved in their own time, and Tessa listened to Adam like he was the key to understanding hers. He looked at me like I was the key to the kind of time he had left.

“What do you mean, ‘she doesn’t know’?” he asked, almost mocking my confession.

“She doesn’t.”

Adam opened his mouth, but I raised my hand, interrupting whatever he was about to say. “She doesn’t need to know.”

“Who are you trying to convince of that?” Adam asked. “You or me?”

My hand dropped. “She just needs to go with the Hendersons.”

His mouth snapped shut, and he leaned back, only dropping his eyes to Tessa’s braids. She hummed, playing with a coin on the table I hadn’t noticed before now. Adam must have left it there, and now, he was watching her from over her shoulder. A nine-year-old singing to a coin like it was a toy.

He half-chuckled, running his hand through his black hair. “You really don’t want her around when Michele’s premonition happens, do you?”

I looked back at my best friend, and saw the unsaid words in his expression. Serena might not come back. We might never see her again. And I set that up. Not intentionally at first, but I hadn’t tried to fight it much either.

I drew in a breath. “She’ll be better off. We all will.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I believe that,” I corrected.

I didn’t even want to begin to guess why Michele had seen a gun go off. For all I knew, she saw Serena getting shot. Sending her away didn’t prove anything, but it put me at ease, and I knew why. A part of me—no matter how small—wanted Serena in the Highlands just because she was Serena. It would increase her chances at survival no matter what. It had nothing to do with her powers. It was just her. Everything else was convenient. I probably would’ve picked her if Cal hadn’t, but Cal knew I needed him to do it first. Adam did, too.

I shoved my head in my hands. “It’s not even guaranteed,” I muttered. “If—” I stopped at Robert’s name. “If he doesn’t agree to meet me, Serena won’t go.”

Adam’s eyes flicked over to the clock hanging above the black lamp Cal gifted us, the one by the stairs, the one Michele never got rid of. “She only has an hour left.”

As if on cue, the door burst open, and Adam and I leapt up. Tessa fell to the ground, landing on her feet as if she were prepared for it. She didn’t even complain. She stared wide-eyed at Cal taking up nearly the entire doorway with his broad shoulders and single arm.

In his one hand, he held up a note. “You won’t believe this.”

I crossed the room and snatched it before he could ruin the surprise.

I’ll meet you. My house. Tomorrow night.

It was signed by Robert, the guy I knew could read, the same guy Serena didn’t know could read. She thought he’d be sending a checkmark if he agreed…and he had. It lingered beneath the words he wrote.

Serena would take Stephanie’s place—my wish had come true—and Serena’s wish had come true too. I would meet Robert, and I knew what had happened without having to look at the sky to confirm.

It was a full moon.

Calhoun and I walked in silence. Even the sounds of our footsteps were drowned out by my heart thundering in my ears. In ten minutes, Robert and I would be face to face. All for Serena. No. All for the election and our rights.

I sucked in a deep breath and caught Cal eyeing me in my peripheral vision. He knew, Adam knew, all of us knew what we were about to lose, but Serena didn’t. We might even have to say goodbye, and I never said goodbye. Not after Nicholas told me not to say it.

He was fifteen, if I remembered correctly, but nothing about my childhood was easy to remember. After my parents had died, I was lucky to find anyone to talk to other than my brothers. Now, they were all gone. But Nicholas’ memory remained.

His tough, blond and brown curls were difficult to forget, and I wondered how he hadn’t been caught earlier. Aside from his memorable curls, his teeth were spikes. He filed them down at night only for them to grow back, but he still smiled when he talked to me. I didn’t want anyone to talk to me, but Nicholas knew that, and he knew the perfect thing to say to me.

“I may be a homeless old man, but that doesn’t mean I’m worthless.” He grinned because we were both kids, and I grinned because he gave me hope. “You’re a good kid, Daniel.”

It was a few days later that everything else happened. While I was listening to him and Abigail—another now-dead bad blood—he had screamed. And cried. And fell to the floor. And I had never seen an older guy do that. I hid in the closet as she kissed his tears away, and when he asked her to leave, she did.

“I know you’re there.” His voice was higher than most, and when I opened the door, Nicholas gave me a shaky smile. “She died,” he said. “She said goodbye and she died.”

His twin sister. I knew of her, but I didn’t know her. I had seen her in passing, but I hadn’t been around long enough to hear her voice or see a smile on her face. From a distance, she always looked serious, like the world had taken the laughter out of her lungs. Nicholas laughed like he had been holding onto some of it for her when she wanted it back, but it didn’t matter anymore. She was gone.

“Don’t ever say goodbye,” he said, reaching out to grab my arm. I let him, and he held me—six-year-old me—like I was a sack of flour. “The world hears goodbye. The world makes it final. Don’t ever say it. Don’t ever say goodbye unless it’s final.”

“I won’t,” I promised without understanding what I had promised. I understood a few days later when he said goodbye and died.

“I’d die for you too,” Cal spoke through my memories like he knew what I was thinking. It was quite possible too. I’d run these streets with Nicholas, and Calhoun was one of the only people who knew Nicholas ever lived. But when I looked at Cal, he frowned. “You didn’t hear a word I said, did yah?”

I shook my head. I was so immersed in my thoughts I had missed whatever speech Calhoun had concocted to prepare me for Robert. I hated to anticipate the reunion. The last time I’d seen Robert, I’d left him in a puddle of his own blood. We were even. As far as I was concerned, that’s where our relationship had ended, but Vendona had other plans. Those plans awaited me behind a brown front door, so clean I figured it was brand new.

“That’s it,” Cal confirmed the home of the Southern Flock. It was smaller than I thought, whiter too, with a red trim and dark shutters. This was where Serena had grown up. This was where Robert had been hiding. This was where they were together.

“You don’t have to do this,” Cal added.

“You know I do.”

Cal grunted. It was his way of saying “I know.”

I stepped forward and concentrated on Cal’s footsteps following me. I hadn’t been able to tell them Cal was coming with, but I couldn’t have done it alone, and I held no shame in that fact.

When I rang the doorbell, I could hardly breathe. Every muscle in my body ached, begging to run, burning from the inside out, but I held my ground. I sucked in my first breath once the door opened.

No one was there.

“Hiya,” a little girl’s voice squeaked, but I didn’t see anyone. Not a single person.

“Why would you have a talkin’ door?” Cal whispered, but before I could respond, the front door opened up further, revealing another door inside, and Serena stepped up and out of the space. It must have led to a basement. Her face lit up like she’d been down in the dark all day.

“Daniel,” she said my name a little too loudly, like she was announcing my presence to a house of hiding bad bloods—which she probably was. “Cal, it’s good to see you.” I’d never heard her speak so properly. When she bent down, I had no idea what she was doing, even when she pretended to be holding something. “This is Melody.”

Serena squeezed, and the little girl appeared just as she sneezed. Melody. Serena had told me about her. The youngest of the Southern Flock could be invisible.

“Hey, kiddo,” Cal started softly, like he did with all the kids.

Melody’s big brown eyes widened even further. “Where’s your arm?”

Serena’s face turned red. “That’s rude, Mel.”

The child glanced at Serena, then back at Cal’s missing arm, then back at Serena. Her nose crinkled. “But—”

“Melody,” Serena’s tone was a warning, and she set the four-year-old down on the floor. “Be nice.” When Serena straightened back up, she mouthed, “Sorry” at Cal. He chuckled, but he never got a chance to speak.

Others had arrived, slowly flooding in from the basement, the kitchen, the stairway, and a hallway. Little faces. Older faces. Girls and boys of all shapes and sizes and backgrounds. All of their eyes on me. None of them looked like Robert. But it was an older guy that stepped forward first. It took the blonde following him for me to recognize them. Catelyn and Steven. I had attacked them in the alleyway.

“Daniel, right?” Steven asked, his voice shaking as much as his hand as he stuck it out.

I shook his hand. “Steven, right?” He nodded as I leaned over to look at Catelyn—really look at Catelyn. Aside from the scar on her cheek and short hair, she could’ve been Serena’s twin. “Catelyn?” She stood taller but didn’t nod. “I’m sorry about what happened.”

Both of them flushed. I wondered if they’d ever heard an apology before.

Serena gestured to the living room. Even though there were only two chairs and a couch, I relaxed at the idea of some of the kids sitting down. It would seem like less then. And it seemed like the others liked the idea too, because the room turned into a rush of kids fighting over one chair and the older kids directing who would sit where and why it was fair.

It reminded me so much of my own flock that I was already missing them. I was asking a lot of Serena to leave her flock behind. I always knew that. But it was another thing to see it in person, to see the other flock in person, to see exactly who she would lose, exactly who would lose her.

“So, it’s true? Serena will be with Henderson?” The question came from a gap-toothed blond boy. He looked like an older Blake.

“That’s the plan.”

“What about you?”

I looked around for the girl who spoke but never figured it out. “I’m staying behind.” I scratched my head. “With my flock,” I added.

A hundred questions flew out of the group. What were my members like? How many were there? How had we all met? Did any of the members have powers like them? Why didn’t I bring them with me?

A dark-skinned woman interrupted the room, “One question at a time.” When she looked at me, I recognized her red eyes. She was the one in Old Man Gregory’s. Niki, if I remembered correctly.

I forced a smile. “I would rather know more about you all.”

Niki tensed, but a young boy with black hair jumped up. “I double myself.” He was the only one to budge, and he looked back at the group like he didn’t understand why they didn’t want to share their abilities. I was still the enemy in their eyes. But the boy didn’t care. He stood his ground, and then he stood in two places—two of him—right in front of me.

I nearly fell backwards.

“Jake,” they both spoke, but their voices sounded different, and there was something about their appearances that didn’t seem quite right. Almost as if you could tell which one was the real one if you looked hard enough. But he formed into one of himself before I could concentrate. “I’m Jake.”

“That’s… ” I had to take a breath and look at Serena to gain my composure. She was smiling a small, perfect smile. “That’s amazing, Jake.”

He beamed before pointing at a smaller, blond boy around the same age. “That kid has spikes in his arms.”

“Jake,” Steven’s voice was sharp. “Let Justan share if he wants to.”

Nearly dancing with excitement, Jake looked at Justan, but he was focused on the floor. It was then that I realized his long sleeves were ripped up, small threads hanging off his wrists. When no one responded to Jake’s silent plea, he slumped, and a girl pulled him back. Her blonde hair was tied back in braids, but her eyes were fierce. She didn’t speak, but there was something about her that reminded me of Kally and Michele if they had meshed into one person.

A moment of silence passed until the girl asked, “So, what do you do?”

“He heals,” Niki answered for me. How she knew was beyond me.

“Really?” The blonde relaxed a bit, and Jake escaped her grip. I watched him run over to Justan and sit on the floor. “How does that work?” she asked as I kept my eyes on the group.

The Southern Flock had six girls and six boys. Some blond. Some with dark hair. One was human. Serena had told me that much. And the rest were bad bloods. Melody went invisible, and Jake doubled himself. Catelyn went through walls, Steven merged with objects, and Robert…he could explode someone from the inside out.

“How do any of our powers work?” I reworded the braided girl’s question. “I don’t know.”

Steven opened his mouth but shut it when I met his eyes. He accepted my simple answer, even though it wasn’t entirely accurate. Some could control their powers more than others could. Some didn’t even discover theirs until much later. But where they came from—how one person’s varied to another’s—was a mystery.

“And him?” Niki probed further. “What’s he do?”

Cal stood behind me like a bodyguard. “I’m human.”

A collective gasp went through the crowd, and one kid got up to run—like she honestly thought I’d bring someone in to hurt them—but another pulled her back down. A little boy up front squeaked the loudest. “Me, too.”

The human. He had white-blond hair and a skinny torso. Melody was next to him, and I couldn’t decide if she made the boy look older or younger than he actually was. I had no way of knowing.

“Do you have humans in your flock?” he asked.

I sighed, wishing I could’ve said yes to make him feel less alone, but I had to say “No.”

The boy nodded, like he knew my answer before I said it, and Serena leaned over to pat him on the head. “You’re still one of us, Timmy.”

He gave her a smile, but it shook a little. I had to look away.

“And you’re the leader?” The question came from the girl who tried to run. Even now, she scratched at her arms like it was a nervous habit. It was then that I noticed her scales.

“Yes,” I answered calmly.

“Like Robert?” she pressed.

My throat tightened. “Just like Robert.”

“Daniel.”

I knew it was him before I turned around. Robert. His voice still had the strong tone of a leader, something I could only wish to have, and it echoed despite only saying my name. I forced myself to turn around before his single word defeated me.

He looked older than I thought he would. He was taller than me, only by a few inches, but his hair was shorter, his facial features sharper, his eyes heavier. The last time I’d seen him, he was scrawny—too thin—but that had changed in the past five years. He’d gained weight, but he remained pallid, like he never risked leaving his flock’s home during the day. Despite that, he somehow had freckles and light in his eyes. A burning one.

I straightened up. “Robert.”

Silence lingered, but I could hear my own heartbeat pound in my ears. The room increased in heat, and I knew I wasn’t imagining it. When Serena grabbed Robert’s arm, the heat dissipated. His powers. I forgot how suffocating they were.

“Why don’t we go outside?” she suggested, speaking softer to him than she had ever spoken to me. She never looked away from Robert, her hands never left his arm, and I tore my eyes away from it only to realize Robert had been watching me watch them the entire time.

“Outside would probably be best,” he agreed, and everyone moved at his words like he controlled the world and I was only in it because he allowed me to be.

***

Kids ran around the backyard as though they didn’t stand a chance at being caught. My adrenaline coursed through my veins at the sight of so many kids outside, exposed to neighbors, cops, or anyone, but I had to remind myself that Southern Vendona was the countryside. Anyone would take advantage of the unusually warm night, especially considering how cold it had been. I could hear faraway neighbors playing outside too. We were fine, and Robert had known that when he agreed to it. He was the leader, after all. I had to swallow that fact. He wouldn’t risk his entire flock just to get back at me.

I gripped the back patio railing, watching the group so intensely I barely realized Serena had joined me. Cal stood by at all times, and Serena eyed him like he was too serious, too still. She pushed her arm against mine as if I was too.

“Not so bad, eh?” she whispered.

I didn’t respond because I couldn’t.

Robert was running around Jake and Justan with Melody on his shoulders. She pulled his hair and laughed. He laughed too. Actually laughed. And all of them fell to the ground, laughing together.

My grip tightened. “Who’s that?” I used my head to gesture to the little girl with scales on her arms. I had to concentrate on someone other than Robert.

“Briauna,” she answered. “She’s one of our newest.”

That’s why she tried to run.

“And who’s next to her?” The blonde girl with braids was helping Briauna hula-hoop. My flock didn’t even have toys—aside from Blake’s teddy bear and Ryne’s checkers. Both were practically stolen. But this flock had plenty.

“Ami.” Serena gave the braided girl a name. “She used to live in the Highlands.”

I sucked in a breath. We didn’t have a single kid from the Highlands. It was hard to accept they were ditched like we were, but they were far less likely to survive. At least the poor kids of the outskirts knew the streets.

“The little boy over there is Huey,” Serena said, pointing near to where Catelyn and Steven sat, holding hands, looking up at the sky like they wished they hadn’t missed the full moon.

“He allows relationships?” I asked, unable to say Robert’s name.

Serena didn’t answer. My stomach churned. Not because of her lack of response but because of why she didn’t respond. She was focused, and she was focused on Robert. He walked straight toward us—alone—and he joined us on the patio, casually leaning on the railing like we were all friends. He was less than a foot away from me. Cal took a step toward us, like he thought Robert would attack me, but then Cal leaned against the house, deciding against it. I curled my hands together so they didn’t shake the railing, but I knew Robert was watching me anyway. Serena was too. I could feel her stare on the both of us, and when we didn’t speak, she sighed loudly so we would hear her.

Robert returned the sigh as though she dictated his every move, but he forced a smile at me. It didn’t reach his eyes. “You’re missing out on all the fun.” Nothing about his tone said it was fun.

“Can’t play much with one arm,” Cal responded since he knew I wouldn’t.

Robert glanced over his shoulder at the man. “I suppose you’re the one who knows Henderson.”

“Alec,” Cal emphasized, “is a friend of mine.”

Robert let out a half-chuckle as he spun around and placed his back against the railing. He faced Cal head-on, but he did the last thing I expected. Robert pointed his head toward me. “How’d you end up with him?”

“Robert—” Serena started to interject, but I grabbed her shoulder. She silenced, leaning into me to catch my eyes, and I nodded at her, letting her know it was fine. We all needed to talk—that’s what she wanted, after all—and she nodded back her understanding. When I looked up, Robert’s eyes were between us, staring at my hand on her, staring at how she leaned into it. I held her tighter.

“Cal saved my life,” I said, keeping my eyes on his, waiting for the moment he’d look back at me. When he did, he suddenly looked smaller.

“I thought you could heal yourself.” His tone was sharp.

“Not when I was a kid.”

“You look just fine to me,” Robert head, slowly tilting his head to the side. “How is your shoulder?”

Serena squeaked. Robert knew about my injury. She suspected as much, but now, I couldn’t deny it. I would have to explain it. But in this moment, I had to face Robert, and I faced his question without letting go of Serena. She brought me strength. Her presence calmed me. She was my biggest comrade and my only weapon, and without her knowing it, she’d already fought back for me. When she squeaked, Robert froze. Her reaction told him everything he needed to know. Serena knew about my injury too.

“I’m alive. Thanks to Calhoun,” I said before Robert could react further. “I trust him with anyone.”

Robert’s stare flicked over to Cal. “And you? Are you on the northern side then?”

“Western.”

Robert’s face drained of color. He was figuring it out. Placing the pieces together. Even the pieces I wanted. Robert knew more than I did. I knew that when I learned where Serena’s parents lived on Debary’s Lane. Now, I had to know if my suspicions were correct.

“And you?” I asked. “How’d you end up on the southern side?”

Robert looked at me—really looked at me—and I wondered what he saw in my face. His face stayed pale like I was more than a ghost, like I was also a ghost of himself, and my jaw tightened, because I knew exactly how he felt, and it was every reason I wanted to punch him.

Serena stepped out of my grasp and right toward Robert—I knew she could see something was off in his expression. She had known him for twelve years, even longer than I had known him, and he met her eyes and conveyed exactly how he felt. She froze. He didn’t want her near him.

She stepped back like he slapped her, and he rubbed his eyes as if he was trying to take it back. I don’t think any of us breathed.

“I,” he paused, peeking at her for a moment. “I met Serena,” he finally answered my question.

She turned around to face me. “I told you,” she explained. “I met him when I ran away.”

Debary’s Lane. I had always known what happened that night.

“We made the flock together,” Robert confirmed as the rest of the pieces fell into place.

I couldn’t look at Serena. I couldn’t. And neither could Robert because we were looking at each other. In the corners of my vision, Serena’s blonde hair waved as she looked from him to me, searching for something she had yet to see. She wouldn’t find what she needed. Robert or I would have to be the ones to allow her to see it. And neither of us had it in us. I knew that now.

Robert broke eye contact to focus on Cal. “Mind if you put down guard duty for five minutes?” His tight voice was strained as he touched Serena’s arm. “You too.” He still didn’t look at her. “We need to talk alone.”

Calhoun smiled, but it was closer to a snarl. “Not a problem.” He stepped away from the house and walked toward the yard. “Come on, Serena.”

She hesitated like she was about to argue, but then she ran after Cal like she knew she had asked for this. Her one condition. She wanted us to meet again. What a mistake that was.

Robert sighed, keeping his back to the yard. “You must know—”

“I know.”

Robert’s face didn’t move, but he watched me from the corner of his eyes. “Did you tell her?”

“Did you?”

Neither of us did. We were more alike than we’d ever admit.

“Leader, huh.” Robert breathed, staring at the wall of the house. “I thought that old guy was the leader.”

It occurred to me that the “heartless, cruel leader” Robert had told Serena about could’ve been Calhoun—the ex-soldier who killed too many bad bloods to count—but when I called her leader heartless and cruel, I had meant Robert. I still did.

“How long have you been keeping tabs on me?” I asked.

His shoulders rose, then fell. “How long have you stopped keeping tabs on me?”

“I never did,” I said, and it was the truth.

Robert’s eyes widened, and for a moment, the air turned hot. His emotions were barely under control, and he only calmed down when he spun around to watch his flock. His fingers curled around the railing just as mine had before. “Remember when I came to you five years ago?”

I had beaten him. It was one of the better days of my life. “How could I forget?”

Robert’s lip shifted, like he was fighting a grimace or a smile or both. “Don’t you want to know what happened to her?” He came to me, asking for help to heal one of his members. She had caught pneumonia, and she was dying. I remembered every plea he tried to give me, how young fifteen-year-old Robert looked in Shadow Alley’s dim light, how skinny he was, how I didn’t care.

I pushed the memory out. “I told you,” I growled, “I can’t heal illnesses.”

Robert huffed like he didn’t believe me, like he never believed me. “That’s why I don’t like you, Daniel.” My name came out like a curse. “You don’t even care to hear what happened to her.”

“What happened?”

“She lived,” Robert said, pointing to the yard.

I followed his gesture to land on Serena. She was laughing, her head thrown back like she could barely contain herself, and Catelyn was clutching her arm, still telling her whatever girls giggled at. Steven rolled his eyes.

“No thanks to you, of course,” Robert said, dropping his hand.

I couldn’t move as I thought it over, how desperate Robert had been when he came to me, how I punched him the second he tried to get me to hear him out.

“She lived, didn’t she?” I managed, allowing all of my other memories of Serena to crash into me. We were all connected more than I knew. “She lived through more than one thing too,” I reminded him of the present instead of the past. I looked at him—directly at him—and he stared back, his face reddening. He knew I was referring to the blood camp. The idea drove us both mad, but there was one difference. “You didn’t see her when she escaped,” I said. “You haven’t seen her since, have you?”

He was silent.

My eyes trailed back to Serena. “She wouldn’t have come back to me if you had.”

“I was there for her more than you know. I was—”

“Robert,” I cut him off, and surprisingly, he silenced. “I’ll make sure she’s taken care of.”

Neither of us spoke for a moment as Serena’s laughter filled the void between us.

“I’m only allowing this because she won’t be around you,” he said, quieter than everything else we’d said to each other before.

“Me, too.”

And then, I walked away. Our conversation was over, and I hoped it was the last conversation we would ever have. Just to make that point, I didn’t look back at him as I made my way across their backyard. As I approached Serena, the kids stopped giggling and halted their play. Cal’s expression even dimmed.

“Serena,” I said her name, and everyone knew what was coming. “It’s time to go.”

She looked up at me and forced a shaky smile, while Catelyn’s grip tightened on Serena’s arm. Serena had to pull the blonde up with her. She hugged her first. “I’ll be back,” she said, and I wouldn’t have heard it if I wasn’t close to them.

Catelyn incoherently mumbled something, and tears were already falling off her scarred face by the time Steven pulled her back. He nodded at me but turned back to Serena. “Be good, okay?” His voice cracked.

“I will,” Serena promised just as all of the other kids flooded around us. So many voices at once filled the tiny area. A few clutched onto Serena’s legs, while others squeezed her arm, but only one kid got picked up.

Melody flickered in and out of her invisibility, but she wasn’t crying. She played with Serena’s blonde hair instead. “Timmy says I might be a flower when you come back.”

I didn’t understand, but Serena must have because her eyes filled with a mist. “It’ll be sooner than that,” she said, kissing the little girl on the forehead. “Take care of Catelyn for me.”

Melody grinned, a grin too big for her chubby cheeks. “And the kitten.”

Serena giggled. “And the kitten.”

Apparently, the Southern Flock had a pet. As much as we were alike, we were different in many ways too. We had the same amount of members, but they had powers I couldn’t imagine. They even had a human and a child from the Highlands. The Northern Flock was simply made up of bad bloods from the street. But we were alike in one, definite way. We loved one another. Every member of Serena’s flock loved her, and I was taking her from them. I was no better than Robert taking her away from her first family.

“Serena.” Robert’s voice was right behind me, so close that goose bumps trailed across my neck and down my shoulder, and he stepped into my vision just as Serena placed Melody into Catelyn’s arms.

She was in Robert’s embrace before I knew it. He ignored me completely, and for a moment, I was sure the world only existed between them. I had to look away. I even started walking away too, but he stopped me by saying my name.

When I turned around, the entire flock was watching—little eyes on little faces of little kids who the government wanted dead—and Robert had protected each and every one of them. Serena still stood by his side.

“If she gets hurt or killed—” he started, but Serena grabbed his arm.

“Don’t.”

He shushed her, and I had to tighten my jaw to prevent myself from yelling at him. “If she gets hurt or killed,” he continued, his eyes darkening, “I’ll kill you.”

“The goal is keeping everyone alive,” I bit back. “Even you.”

Robert’s jaw moved back and forth, but he leaned back as he looked me over. “Then you’ll make a deal with me.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“We should join flocks.”

Everyone was speechless, even me, even Serena. I had to look at everyone else’s reactions to confirm the words that left his mouth. Robert wanted the Northern Flock and the Southern Flock to become one. He had lost his mind.

“I’m not sure I understand,” I said, slowly.

“Let me put it bluntly.” He was not holding back. “If we lose this election, we will need each other. We will have to fight.” We would have to kill. “The number of people that reside on our side will be the determination for a good result. Or a terrible one.”

Robert always made a good argument. If we weren’t bad bloods, he would’ve been a fantastic politician. It was one of the reasons I always wanted to punch his face in. But I had to prevent myself from hitting him, even now. Robert and I didn’t like each other, but that didn’t mean our flocks had to suffer from our grudge.

“I agree.”

Serena stepped forward and grabbed my hand. She squeezed it, and I could feel Calhoun edging closer to me, a looming, one-armed shadow.

Robert didn’t smile. “Two days from now, in the morning, bring your flock here. One at a time.”

I shook my head against his plan. “My house is bigger. We would be able to fit everybody better, and the city can cover up our noise. We also have a safety house.” I gestured to Cal with my free hand. “We’ll live at my house.”

Robert opened his mouth, and I half-expected an argument, but he said the last thing I ever expected to hear out of his mouth. “You’re right, Daniel. I’ll see you soon.”

Only two hours had passed since we left my flock behind—since I left my flock behind—but it felt like an eternity had taken hold of my energy. I dragged myself across Cal’s living room to sit on his couch, and I let all of my thoughts consume me.

Robert and Daniel spoke in private—about what I didn’t know—and it somehow led Robert to ask Daniel to join the flocks. While I was gone, the Northern and Southern Flock would become one. It seemed odd that the only person they had in common had to leave in order for it to happen, but I was satisfied—with that, at least.

My eyes followed Daniel as he sulked down the hallway. “I need a shower,” he grumbled over his shoulder and disappeared. I heard the water running almost immediately, and my fingers curled into fists against my knees. The one detail of the evening was ruining everything else.

Robert knew about Daniel’s scar.

If it had been summer, it would’ve made sense, but Daniel was wearing a jacket—his signature blue-and-white one—and the plaid covered everything. There was no way Robert could’ve guessed it either. I only knew about it because of the night Daniel got sick and Cal asked me to take off his shirt. Recalling it gave me chills, for more than one reason.

I could sense Calhoun watching me from the kitchen, and I wondered if Daniel could sense I was watching the hallway, waiting for him to return. I had so many questions I needed him to answer before I left, but I doubted he’d respond the way I hoped. He was similar to Robert in so many ways. Perhaps it was why I found so much comfort in Daniel. Perhaps it was the most frustrating part of him.

My eyes flicked away from the hallway to Cal. I was right. He was staring at me. My hands curled even further. “What happened between them?”

“You already know, Serena,” he answered quickly as if he’d expected it from the moment we’d entered his stuffy apartment. “You just don’t want to see it.” His dark eyes were heavy. “Why you don’t want to see it is what I’m trying to figure out.”

My mind didn’t race. My heart didn’t pound. I didn’t react at all. The truth in his words mimicked the feeling in my gut. I did know.

I opened my mouth, ready to speak, but the sound of the shower turned off. I closed my mouth, listening, and I knew Daniel was out. I stood up. This conversation wasn’t for Calhoun and I; it was meant for Daniel.

As if Cal sensed it, he didn’t stop me or speak to me as I left the room and headed down the hallway. I remembered where Daniel’s room was. It was hard not to. Cal’s apartment had very few rooms, and Daniel’s was one of two at the end of the straightaway.

The door was already cracked open, but I knocked before I pushed it the full way open. “Daniel?”

My eyes landed on him, and I almost stumbled back into the hallway. It was the way his shoulders twitched that stopped me from leaving at all. He sat on the edge of his bed—shirtless—with his left hand grasping the red flesh of his scarred right shoulder. His coarse breathing hitched in his throat every time his shoulder shook. He looked like a dying animal in pain. The wheezing made him sound like one too.

I slid inside his room, closing the door quietly behind me. I’d seen enough death to know one thing. You never approach a dying animal. But bad bloods weren’t animals—even if the government wanted to say we were—and Daniel wasn’t dying. He was just in pain. A lot of pain. And there was a way to approach that. Cautiously and with care.

I barely took a breath as I sat next to him, the bed creaking as the mattress bent under my weight. When I lifted my hand, he twitched, still struggling to breathe, and I froze, leaving my hand in his vision so he could see. I slowly dropped it on his thigh, and he shook his head. Water dripped off his wet hair and landed on his sweatpants. I would’ve thought he was crying if it weren’t for his eyes being closed.

“You okay?” I whispered, careful not to move too much. I recognized his pain as my own. It was psychological. Something that came back from the past to haunt him—and tonight had triggered it. My one condition was at fault.

The hand grasping his shoulder fell into his lap, and his breathing slowed. His eyes even cracked open. “I’m—” he sighed, moving his hand over to my thigh. “I’m better.” The silence between us was as thick as the steam coming into the bedroom from the bathroom. The mist curled against the ceiling, and I focused on it, wondering what to say when Daniel cleared his throat. “Do you—you’ve seen it already.”

It started as a question and turned into something else. I faced him only to realize he had turned his torso so I could see it—really see it. The scar. It was huge, stretching from his collarbone to his chest. The bumpy patch of skin looked like an explosion. His shoulder must have nearly been torn off. How it healed at all was beyond me.

My breath caught in my throat.

He reached up and his thumb moved across my cheek. “It’s not what you think—” he started, but I interrupted.

“It was Robert, wasn’t it?”

His lips snapped shut, and his green eyes went cold.

“I’ve seen him do it to people. Blow them up,” I rambled, forcing out my memories at the same time. The family we killed. The fellow homeless we killed. The police officers we killed. The animals we killed. I’d lost count a long time ago. And yet, Robert’s powers were one of the only ones I never used. I’d seen the damage it could do. And now I was seeing it on Daniel. “He got your shoulder, didn’t he?”

“Serena—”

“That’s why you hate him, isn’t it?” I asked, unable to stop. No matter how many scenarios I ran through my head, I could not—for the little life of me I had left—picture Robert hurting Daniel. “He must have been a kid. He hasn’t done it in years. Not to a person anyway. He’s a good person now—”

“Serena, stop.” Daniel’s words came out in a whisper, but I heard him. I heard him more than I ever heard him before. His tone chipped away at my heart. I didn’t want to hear what he’d say.

As his green eyes searched my face, all I could see was the knowledge I wanted but didn’t have the strength to take. His fingers drifted down my leg to my knee, and he pulled my legs up on the bed so we were both fully facing one another. His hands were on my knees. His forehead was practically pressed against mine, and I couldn’t breathe. I could never breathe again.

“It wasn’t Robert,” he said.

I didn’t understand.

“Then—but—then—” I couldn’t even find the question in my heart. “Wh-Why do you hate him so much?”

“I don’t hate him.” He stumbled over his words trying to convince himself that they were the truth. His sigh said he was about to give me the real, honest answer. “Sometimes broken things can’t be repaired.” He touched his shoulder again as if to point out how it’d never heal. Even the master healer had injuries, dents, imperfections, scars. A past. But those reminded us of reality. Broken things may not be repaired, but Robert and Daniel weren’t things. They were people.

“I don’t understand,” I admitted.

“I don’t want you to,” Daniel said, raising his head to look at me. “But I need to ask you something.”

My heart lunged in my throat. “Yes?”

“Five years ago,” he paused, briefly glancing at his desk where all of his photos aligned. I wondered which one he was looking at. Blake? Adam? The group of kids? Cal and him and his horrible injury? “Five years ago, you were sick.”

“Yeah,” I said, trying to remember if I had told him that or not.

“And Robert. He left. And when he came back, he was hurt.”

I definitely didn’t tell him that.

“Right?” he pressed.

I scooted away. “How’d you know—?”

“I’m the one who hurt him.”

I stared. It was the only thing I could do. I stared and stared and stared, and Daniel finally stared back. I searched his face, trying to imagine what Daniel must have looked like when he was thirteen. I knew what Robert looked like at fifteen. He was thin back then, but he obsessed over becoming more physically fit after that time. I knew why now. Daniel had beaten him. Those bruises. That limp. Robert’s blood. It was all from Daniel’s hands.

“He didn’t do this,” Daniel continued, reaching up to touch his shoulder. “But you should know what I did to him.”

I swallowed, trying to understand why Robert never told me. I would’ve stayed away then. All Robert would’ve had to do was tell me Daniel caused it and I would’ve stayed home. But Robert didn’t do that. Robert let me see him.

Daniel nudged me with his fingertips, like he were afraid to touch me. “Serena?”

I blinked. “Why’d you do it?”

“I had to,” he said, but then he went quiet. “No,” he choked. “I wanted to,” he paused, “and I still don’t regret it.”

With every beat of my heart, a memory pounded in my head. The fever. The sickness. The coughing. Niki wanting to put me out of my misery. Robert leaving, Catelyn at my side, Robert returning in pain. He went to Daniel to heal me. But even I knew Daniel didn’t heal sickness. How did Robert not know that? Even then, what would cause Daniel to beat Robert over a question? Every time I got an answer, I had more questions, and I had one main one—one about how Daniel didn’t regret hurting Robert. Not at all.

“If you don’t hate him, then how do you feel?” I asked, wondering what else could possibly fill in for such violence.

Daniel’s expression became unreadable. “I don’t feel anything toward him.” His tone was neutral too. “I try not to anyway,” he added, monotone. “Or I’d kill him.”

Wasn’t that hate? I wanted to ask him, but Daniel squeezed my knee. “I need to know,” he started, already shaking his head as he tried to form the words. “How do you feel about him?”

I looked at Daniel. Really looked at him. His cheeks were red, and he let go of me just to rake his fingers through his hair. When he looked back at me, his green eyes moved back and forth so rapidly it was as if he were desperate not to miss anything in my expression.

“You think,” I paused, pointing at myself. “You think I like him?”

He threw his hands into the air. “I don’t know what to think.” His calm voice didn’t match his movements. “That’s why I’m asking you.”

“I—uh—” I fumbled over my memories. “There was a time. When I younger. I thought I liked him.” It was right after Steven arrived, and Catelyn had begun to hang out with him more often than with me. “But I was just thirteen and lonely. Nothing happened. Robert doesn’t even know.”

Daniel nodded, moving his head to the side to hide his frown, but it didn’t work. Why he was frowning was beyond me.

“He’s like a brother to me,” I added, hoping that would help, but Daniel went rigid. Maybe that was too much love. “Really, nothing romantic,” I promised.

“Serena.” Something about his tone told me to stop. “I think we both need rest.”

I nodded automatically and stood to leave, but Daniel grabbed my hand before I could move away. I turned around, but he only stared up at me, his green eyes overshadowed by his wet, darkened hair. His grip tightened.

“Daniel?”

“You can stay here if you want,” he said, so quick and quiet I almost missed it.

I couldn’t fight a smile as I sat back down. Without another word, he scooted to the left side of his blue bed and yanked the covers back. I got under before he did, but he turned off the light and met me in the middle, wrapping his arms around me like he’d never let go. He was warm, like the sun I was barely allowed to go out in, and he smelled like the sea in Eastern Vendona—all fresh and clean.

“Have you ever seen the ocean?” I asked against his sternum, and he nodded once, taking the time to kiss me on the forehead. “We should see it together when I come back.”

He didn’t nod again, but when I peeked up, he was already asleep—so fast he was almost like a child—and his face lost a few years. He looked younger. Relaxed. And I wondered if I’d actually see the expression on his face while he was awake. I doubted it. I doubted a lot. But I didn’t doubt one thing. I wished I could heal him. I wished I could know about Robert. I wished I could save them and stay with them at the same time. I wished I didn’t have to leave them to help them, but I was at a loss. I was a person full of wishes but without a star. And the sky and the moon and the ocean and all of Vendona knew it. In the morning, I would leave, I would be alone, and none of us would be free. Not yet and maybe never.

I woke up early and borrowed money from Cal to do the one last thing I needed—and wanted—to do. When I returned, the sun was up and Serena was seated at the island, shoveling eggs and toast into her mouth. She didn’t even blush from me catching her in the food act. She grinned like she was proud.

“Cal is an awesome cook,” she said, and Cal beamed, waving his spatula through the air.

“Now why don’t you ever praise me like that?” he asked me as he used his spatula to push another full plate toward me.

“I tell you that all the time,” I said as I grabbed my plate and sat next to Serena. I left my jacket on. Overnight, the cold had returned, fiercer than before. It got to my bones. Cal placed a coffee on the counter as if he sensed I needed warming up, and then he set a diet soda in front of me as if he could sense I needed more energy too.

I grabbed the soda first and took a swig.

“When will they be here?” Serena asked.

I almost choked.

The Hendersons. They were coming today. Alec Henderson would be right in front of me, and Serena would leave with him. The one other thing he asked me for was in my right pocket. The only thing I wanted to give away was in my left pocket. I had to grip the soda with both hands to prevent myself from checking my pockets to see if the objects were still there.

“Any minute,” Cal answered calmly, like we’d exchanged identities with politicians a hundred times before.

We were committing a council offence—a crime punishable by death—and that wasn’t even the only one. Protecting a bad blood was one too. And I had to stop there. I was sure we were all committing more than one, and we couldn’t stop ourselves now.

Someone knocked on the door.

Serena and I met eyes. Her gray ones. My green ones. I grabbed her hand, or she grabbed mine, but we both squeezed.

Breakfast was over. The Hendersons were here.

Cal crossed the room first, humming like a friend had arrived, and I had to remind myself that a friend had arrived. They had been friends almost as long as I’d been alive.

I forced myself to turn around and watch as Cal opened the door, but I could only find my breath once I realized it wasn’t the Hendersons but the Hendersons’ driver. He was tall and dark. Black eyes, black hair, and skin like the night.

“Adelio,” Cal addressed him, and Adelio grinned as they patted one another on the backs. Cal and Adelio knew one another?

“We’d prefer to speak in the alleyway.” Adelio spoke in an accent I was unfamiliar with, something thick but smooth. Like music I’d never heard, it was both impossible to predict and mesmerizing to hear. Serena squeezed my arm like she was thinking the same thing. I doubted either one of us had met someone from outside of Vendona before. Ever since the dissolution of the United States in 2041, immigrants were rare. Speaking directly to the Council of the States was the only way to leave your city-state, and it was something only the rich did, for vacation or to volunteer or study. To live and work in another city-state was unheard of. Adelio was rare indeed, and I watched his every move like he was a mirage until they stepped into the alleyway and closed the door behind them.

“Where do you think he’s from?” Serena whispered.

“Find out for me,” I whispered back, wondering why—exactly—we were even whispering. We were alone. But it was our silence that allowed everything else to happen.

Alec’s voice was the first I recognized, deep and authoritative, and then Jane’s, smooth like honey. Adelio’s snuck in every now and then, but they all disappeared as soon as I heard an engine roar to life.

The door creaked open, and Cal poked his head in. “You two comin’ or what?”

We scrambled to our feet, nearly tripping over one another, and then burst into a fit of giggles as we helped each other to the door. The laughter died as soon as we reached the threshold. Serena was leaving. I knew that. But seeing Henderson up close was what made it real.

I grabbed Serena’s hand like I had the right to hold it forever, and she held mine as though she wished that were true. The Hendersons watched us, prepared to break our hearts for the greater good, and Cal looked at us like he was waiting for us to break ourselves.

“Jane, Alec.” Cal cleared his throat, and I realized Adelio was gone. “This is Daniel and Serena.”

Mrs. Henderson wore the same hairstyle she had on television. Her white-blonde hair was pinned back, causing her brown eyes to look wide but brilliant. Even then, her soft face reminded me of Michele’s, a mother’s face.

Her husband—Mr. Henderson—was taller than I thought, even taller than Floyd. But his dusty brown hair was the same. I could even see the gray streaks running through it, though his dark eyebrows caught my attention the most. They held no gray coloring, and I wondered if his stylists dyed them darker to make his eyes look lighter, more illuminated and brilliant like his wife’s gaze.

No one spoke for a moment as we all looked one another over, and I had to fight myself from stepping behind Serena. For the first time in my life, I wanted to hide.

Jane smiled first. “Well, hello there.” Her voice was like wind chimes, bouncy, sweet, and charming. “I’m Jane.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Serena squeaked.

I had to give her credit. I couldn’t even respond.

Alec gave me the onceover, and I doubted I’d even be able to speak again. “You’re Daniel?”

I nodded, paused, and nodded again. What was wrong with me?

Calhoun chuckled as he laid his only hand on my shoulder. “The kids are nervous.”

Alec grinned. “No reason for that,” he said. “We’re all people here.”

People. Serena tensed because she heard it too. We were people to him. Not bad bloods. Not less than human. People.

I had to clear my throat to keep my emotions under control. “It’s an honor to meet you, sir, ma’am.” I bowed my head. I actually bowed. And I wanted to die from embarrassment.

Henderson’s eyebrows rose, but his smile remained. “Please, my boy, don’t be so formal.” His voice was as smooth as his wife’s, and I wondered if it was an accent of the Highlands. I worried Serena wouldn’t sound like they did. She glanced at me like she was thinking the same thing.

“Maybe we should go inside for now?” Alec suggested. “Adelio will return when needed.” It was then that I realized the car was gone. Adelio must have been driving it around town, so we could talk.

We were inside Cal’s in seconds, like Alec controlled all of Vendona already, and I fought the urge to apologize for how small Cal’s apartment was, how dim it was, how shabby it must have looked to them. But Jane and Alec seemed comfortable, like they’d been inside Cal’s house before. After that thought, I had to fight the urge to ask them if they had. We had more pressing things to discuss.

Alec leaned against the countertop, and the gesture seemed wrong to me. I’d never seen him lean before. He was always standing up straight, and he never smiled. A politician’s smile was seen as weakness, but Alec had barely stopped smiling since his arrival, and he definitely hadn’t stopped looking us over.

“How do you guys feel about all of this?”

It wasn’t a question I was expecting.

“I, uh—” I looked at Serena.

She was too focused on Henderson to notice me. “They’ll recognize me,” she said, matter-of-factly.

Henderson nodded. “That’s the plan.”

Serena’s eyebrows rose. “You’re serious about this then?” Her tone said it all. This had just become real to her too.

“Very.”

“We will cut and dye your hair,” Jane spoke up. “And we’ll help you to gain a few pounds,” she added it like she felt bad for Serena—or for her missing daughter. The streets were harsh, but even the Hendersons knew that Serena went through much more than the streets. It occurred to me that their daughter could’ve been executed in the exact blood camp Serena escaped from. But no one even knew if she were dead. From what I was told anyway. “They’ll recognize you, but you’ll look different enough that no one will dare question it,” Jane continued, slower this time. “You’ll be a walking ghost—haunting them with what they did to you.” Her voice cracked. “And you’ll look powerful.” She cleared her throat. “You are powerful.”

Serena didn’t budge, and it occurred to me that Jane was right. Serena was powerful. Very powerful. And her response was deafening.

“I don’t want to cut my hair. Or dye it,” she said. “Let them see me.”

Jane’s eyebrows shot up to her hairline, and her husband tensed.

“I could use a few pounds though,” Serena added with a smile.

Henderson’s face nearly broke from his grin. “Brilliant, my dear,” he exclaimed, clapping his hands together. “Just brilliant.” Everything was calm until his eyes slid over to me. “And you?”

I swallowed. I knew what he was referring to, and I avoided Serena’s gaze as I stepped forward, pulled the photo out of my pocket, and gave it to him. “It’s the only one I have,” I muttered, hoping it would distract him from the fact I had been shaking when I handed it over.

He took it carefully, like I handed him precious gems instead of an old photograph. I could sense Serena inching forward, trying to see what I gave him, so I moved over so she couldn’t. I didn’t think I was capable of explaining myself. I never was.

Jane watched me like she knew what I was doing, and her all-knowing eyes slid over to Serena instead of the photo. “You’re in the Northern Flock then?”

My stomach twisted, knowing the question was directed at Serena.

“No,” she answered. “Southern.”

Jane was looking at me again, putting the pieces together. “How does that work?”

“It doesn’t,” I said.

Alec Henderson was too focused on the photo to hear what was happening, but my tone must have caught his attention because he glanced up. “Thank you for this aid. I will do my best to return it to your care.”

So formal. Like an old novel.

“How old are you?” Jane was an interrogation on heels. The questions kept coming.

I cleared my throat. “Eighteen.”

“Seventeen,” Serena answered for herself.

A half-gasp escaped Jane as she looked us up and down. I wondered what she knew or what she saw or what she thought. Did we look older than we should have? Was it just our stories that bothered her? I doubted I’d ever know. It was my reality.

“How long have you been the leader?” Henderson, unlike his wife, was unfazed as he asked the questions he needed to know for the future.

“Since I was eleven,” I said. “I was six when I ended up on the streets.”

Henderson raised a brow. “And your brothers?”

“Eight and four.”

Dead. They were both dead.

Henderson’s eyes fell to the photo, and Serena grabbed my hand like she sensed I needed it.

“You’ve heard about my speech then?” Henderson asked, still searching the photograph.

They were all dead.

“Yes,” I croaked. I’d heard the plans from Calhoun, and I agreed to it. I had. I just had to get through this one moment, and I could leave it all behind again.

“Don’t forget this,” Henderson said the worst words he could have said, and his eyes slid up to me, forming into an authoritative glare like he could force me to accept it. “This will save lives.” He glanced at Serena. “Both of you will.”

We nodded because that was all we could do.

“Well,” Henderson spoke like that was his default setting. “It’s time to go save lives, then.” He looked from Serena to me and back to Serena, watching as neither of us dropped the other’s hand. “We’ll wait in the car.”

Jane nodded, and the two said their goodbyes to Cal. I spun to Serena before we ran out of time, but she was already walking to the front door. I had to collect myself before chasing her. Everything was moving so fast—too fast. The Hendersons were in their car, and Calhoun was inside, and Serena was walking—no, marching—toward the black car at the end of the alleyway, and I was left to stop her. I grabbed her arm before she disappeared forever.

She spun around, ready to fight like she hadn’t expected me to follow her. When her hand landed on her heart, I knew I had scared her. It was all I was good for.

“Daniel,” she breathed my name, and her breath fogged out in front of her. It was freezing. I was already shivering, but her smirk warmed me up. “I thought you didn’t say goodbye.”

That was why she walked away without saying anything. She accepted me, right before I was about to change.

I dug into my pocket and pulled it out before I could talk myself out of it. When I shoved it into her hands, she stared for a long while. The silver bracelet shone in the afternoon sunlight, the little moon charm catching most of it, like it was the real moon trying to reflect all the light back.

“Daniel,” she said my name again. “What is this?”

Bad bloods never purchased jewelry. We didn’t get anything. But I wanted to give Serena something—anything—and Cal had allowed me to borrow money that morning for this purpose.

“It’s for you,” I said. “I got it for you.”

I truly loved her for the short period of time we had together. I felt as if she was part of my destiny. To see that destiny leave was the most unexplainable feeling. It was also the worst.

“Do you not like it?” I asked when she remained silent.

She shoved it back in my hands. “Wait for me.”

“What?”

“I want a chance to love you too.” Her gray eyes were thunderstorms, glazed with water. “Wait for me.” Then, she stood on her tiptoes and kissed me on the lips, fast and hard. I didn’t even have time to kiss her back. She was gone as soon as she came, and I blinked, trying to focus on her swinging blonde ponytail as she ran toward the car.

She never even gave me a chance to say what I wanted to say most, but that was just like her. I chuckled, my breath escaping in a painful fog, and my chest tightened. I hadn’t had time to kiss her back because I’d been too busy slipping the bracelet back into her coat pocket. She’d find it when she got to the Highlands.

“Goodbye, Serena,” I whispered into the November wind.

The car’s windows were tinted so that it looked like night outside. I kept my eyes on the outskirt roads, all the people and shops and tiny houses we passed in a blur. All eyes followed us. The way we drove around, Henderson wanted everyone to see us. I suspected that was part of the plan.

“You want them to know?” I asked, finally facing him. The car was nothing like I had ever been in before—or even seen. We were practically sitting on couches in the back. Adelio drove from the front.

Henderson smiled a small smile, nothing like the grins he had at Cal’s. “You’re a very intelligent girl,” he said, slowly. “I imagine that’s why Daniel and you get along so well,” he said Daniel’s name like they knew one another casually, something I knew, for a fact, wasn’t possible. He leaned forward on his knees, never taking his eyes off me. “He’s your boyfriend, yes?”

“I…” I wanted to argue, but I couldn’t. Just thinking about Daniel made all my horrible memories lighten up with the blissful ones. “I guess he is,” I said, feeling heat rise to my cheeks.

“And Robert?” Henderson knew Robert’s name. “How did he feel about that?”

I didn’t answer. I remembered the photo Daniel gave Henderson, the ones with all the kids. He tried to block it, but I saw, and I remembered the words Alec said, how it had to do with his speech, how our stories would save lives. I thought it was my story, not Daniel’s, but the more I thought, the more I recalled how Daniel spoke about me taking all of their stories into the future—even his.

“Why me?” I finally managed.

We passed under a bridge, and all I could see for a moment was the golden underside lights shining through the windows and brightening Jane’s white-blonde up-do. “Well, sweetheart,” her voice was so soft, “to be quite frank…”

“Be frank then,” I interrupted, still trying to ground myself in some sort of reality. I—Serena the bad blood—was in a car with the potentially future president of Vendona, the 167th city-state of the Council of States. We’d be in the Highlands at any moment, and Serena would be gone. Stephanie Henderson would take her place. Other than our blonde hair, we had little in common. She had blue eyes. Mine were gray—like I wasn’t alive enough for blue—and Stephanie was born into a rich world, somehow leaving it behind like it was nothing. Whatever had happened to her, I already resented her for it because she reminded me of me. I had a family too—a home—and I had disappeared, left it behind in the night. I knew why I left. But I wanted to know why Stephanie disappeared too, and I had to start by understanding her. I wanted to know why I was taking her place. “You could’ve had anyone.”

Alec nodded, handing me a chocolate bar. “Here, eat this first.”

“It’ll help you gain weight,” Jane explained. “Fast.”

I unwrapped and took a bite, thankful it tasted all right. They watched me like they weren’t sure I’d obey. I didn’t have the heart to tell them I only obeyed because it was something I wanted too. As I ate, Alec spoke.

“You know why you were the most important candidate.” Candidate. Like I was a politician too. A politician that had been tortured and damn near killed. Robert’s voice echoed inside of me. I wondered where he was, what he was doing, how everyone else was too. The further we drove, the more I wanted them by my side. I curbed my worries by eating.

“What they did to you in there was beyond what any human being should ever go through,” Alec continued, calling me a human once again. “And I’m doing worse,” he said as we exited the bridge, and the dim light revealed his stare. “I’m using what they did to you. I will tell your story and Daniel’s to beat them, and I didn’t feel right doing it without you there.”

I finished the chocolate bar before finding my voice. “And Daniel?”

“He didn’t want to come.”

My heart lunged in my throat. It hadn’t just been me. Alec had offered to take Daniel too, and Daniel hadn’t told me. He had kept secrets.

I shoved my shaking hands in my jacket pockets to hide them, but things only got worse. I felt it almost immediately—the cold silver—and I pulled it out to make sure. The bracelet. It was in my hands. Daniel had slipped it back to me.

I gripped it, losing all concentration as I tried to recall if he said anything to me before I ran away. He hadn’t said goodbye, had he? He didn’t actually believe we’d lose, did he? What did he think would happen while I was gone?

Someone’s hand was on my shoulder, and I had to blink to see Jane. She had moved over to my side, and her hand was stroking my hair, slowly, like my mother used to do. Her blonde hair even reminded me of my mother’s, but Jane smelled like baby powder. My mother smelled like ink.

“No one will ever have to go through what you did ever again,” she said. “That doesn’t mean we won’t acknowledge it.”

“I’m using you,” Alec concurred. “You’re a pawn, but we all are. It’s about making yourself useful, so you can win the game.”

I stared back at him, swallowing whatever fear had taken over me from before. “You’re not what I thought you’d be.”

Henderson’s eyebrows rose. “What did you think I’d be?”

“Worse.”

Both of them tensed.

“No matter what, they’ll know you lied,” I started, feeling the strength return to my voice as I unclipped the bracelet and slid it over my wrist. “You’ll go down as the worst lying politician in all of history.”

He grinned. “I believe that makes me the most honest one.”

I closed the clasp and stared at the silver jewelry dangling off my wrist. I had jewelry on. Real jewelry. “You really think we could win?” I asked after a moment.

“My dear,”—his hand landed on my knee—“I’ve always thought we could win. That’s why I’m here.” He cleared his throat. “That’s why you’re here too.”

When I heard the doorbell ring at noon, I hadn’t expected Robert to bring others with him, but a few of the older teens followed, each with a younger one following their shadows. I recognized Steven and Catelyn immediately. Both of them held one of Melody’s hands, and the little girl was the only one smiling at me. She even broke away to hug my leg.

“Danny,” she squealed against my leg, and I patted the top of her head, unsure of what else to do. Having everyone’s eyes on me was enough.

I had warned my flock beforehand—much to their dismay—about Robert’s deal with me. The Northern Flock and the Southern Flock were officially one, but the one member that held us together was gone. She’d almost been gone for an entire day, and my mind wondered what she could possibly be doing in the Highlands, though the look Robert gave me was enough to freeze my thoughts.

“Daniel,” he said, stepping inside before the others followed.

I nodded at him but tended to the others. Everyone’s rooms had been combined or completely moved. Most, if not all, of the younger children would be sleeping on a collection of pillows and blankets in the basement. One of the only exceptions was Blake. He was still sick, and he was only getting worse. He stayed in my room. And he was the only one who stayed in my room. I normally crashed next to him or on the couch.

“And here they are.” Michele’s overly cheery voice was just that—overly cheery. It was obvious how much she was faking it, but only Adam and I knew why. Those two were the only ones who knew why Robert and I hated one another, and I had to beg Michele to be nice to him. She still wouldn’t look me directly in the eye for agreeing to Serena’s terms, but she’d come around. She always did. “Welcome.”

Ryne scooted behind her, and his eyes moved over the others. “I’m Ryne,” he introduced himself, as neutral as his expression was unreadable. Clearly, Michele had asked for his help. All the others were hiding elsewhere.

“Guys!” I shouted, knowing they couldn’t ignore my voice, and slowly but surely, they appeared, one face after the other. Maggie with Adam. Kally with Tessa. Peyton dragging Ron behind her. And Floyd by himself. Floyd was the only one grinning, and he extended his arm with his powers to Robert, a true show-off.

“Welcome, I’m Floyd.”

Robert stared at his hand for a moment, but he shook it right when I thought he wouldn’t. “Robert.”

After that, the house erupted into giggles and one shout over the other. Kids getting to know kids. More kids showing up. Little heads of hair bouncing around. Two kids on the couch. One kid playing with a cat I didn’t recall seeing, but Serena did tell me about it. I wondered if the pet followed Catelyn, but I decided not to ask. One more mouth to feed wasn’t my biggest concern.

I started for the stairs, ready to check on Blake, when Robert cut me off in the entryway. “Where are you going?”

My shoulders ached as I forced a shrug. “Just making sure everyone’s getting settled in.” Time was passing faster than I could fathom. It had probably been hours. The golden sunset was streaming through the curtains, brighter than the usual winter gray glare, but it was the object he was holding that caught my attention. It was a photo of Blake, one of the only ones I had, a copy of the one I had at Cal’s, except I kept this copy on the fire mantel.

He flashed it at me, and the sunset caught the glass. “I don’t see this little boy.”

I didn’t like his tone. “His name’s Blake,” I said, squaring my shoulders, “and he’s sick.”

Robert’s eyebrows rose, heat rising in the air. I heard the others shift, and I knew I wasn’t the only one that sensed Robert’s powers. “When will I meet him?”

“When he’s better,” I forced the words out. “I wouldn’t want him around the others until then.”

“Robert, right?” Adam approached quickly, too quickly, as if to warn Robert of his abilities, but he smiled like he mastered controlling happiness. “Why don’t you help Michele and me in the kitchen? We’re planning a large dinner—”

“Sure.” There was no kindness in his tone. He knew what Adam was doing. I wondered if he also knew who Adam was—Calhoun’s nephew—and I wondered what else Robert had figured out by watching me over the years. Either way, it was clear he understood our situation better than I did.

As Robert disappeared into the kitchen, Michele caught my eyes and nodded at me. She followed him, and I knew he’d be out of the way for a while. I itched to go upstairs to Blake, but this was an opportunity to speak to his flock without his overprotective gaze.

I forced myself to walk over to the giant table in front of the big bay window, the table we always ate at, and the entire group tensed as I approached. Catelyn especially. Steven grabbed her hand. Melody was the only one who didn’t look up. She was too busy coloring with crayons, and by the looks of it, I doubted she had ever used one. Timmy—the human—watched her with careful amazement, like he thought the crayons might hurt him.

It was then that I remembered what Serena had revealed. She couldn’t read.

I sat down and reached over to grab a crayon. The others watched me, and I scribbled down a few letters. They didn’t say a word until I pushed it at Steven—the one I presumed was the eldest of the kids. He was probably between Serena and me, but he blinked at me.

“What’s this?” he asked, staring down at the paper.

“Your name.”

“I know.” He could read, but the others leaned over, awestruck. Catelyn gripped his hand harder.

I wrote hers down and pushed it to her. “That’s yours.”

A wet gloss coated her blue eyes, and she let go of Steven to touch the paper. Her fingers shook as she skimmed the first letter. Steven laid his hand on her shoulder as I continued to ask the others for their names so I could write them all down. Melody was so excited by hers that she almost ripped it in half, but Timmy was the first to start tracing. He looked like he had some education, but without continuous education, it was clear that a lot of the kids had dwindled.

“I couldn’t teach them all on my own,” Steven said, explaining the situation I had already guessed. I couldn’t predict all the children’s stories, but I knew the common ones for bad bloods. Even though school was mandatory, most kids were discovered in elementary school. Sometimes, the parents took them out before then to hide them, and no one questioned it when kids didn’t show up at school. It was an unspoken rule. Once a child went missing from society, it was presumed they were never worthy of society at all. When kids were on the street, it was difficult to justify teaching them school lessons. They had survival to worry about. If Michele, Cal, and Adam weren’t around to help me, I doubted my kids would’ve been able to read either.

“C-A-T-E-L—” Catelyn stopped, frowning as she looked over the last two letters.

“Y and N,” Steven finished. He hadn’t even had time to teach his own girlfriend.

“Y and N,” she whispered back, but she laid the crayon down.

“Melody!” the little girl screamed her name, and Timmy giggled like it was the funniest joke in the world. Her tracing was awful.

“I wrote my name,” Briauna—the little girl with scales—said quietly, like she was too afraid to be noticed, but Steven nodded.

“You can still do that now.”

She was one of the newest members. Their names and voices were starting to blend with everything Serena had told me, and it occurred to me that she might have been subconsciously preparing me to meet them all along.

A smile escaped me.

I got up from the table so no one saw it. I still had to see Blake, but I didn’t get far. I heard her footsteps before I turned around to face her. Catelyn. With her blonde hair and light eyes, she looked so much like Serena it was painful. The differences were obvious though. The scar on her face was the worst of it.

She glanced over her shoulder, but Steven was preoccupied with the kids, and she sighed before turning back to me. “Daniel, right?” Before I could answer, her cheeks flushed, burning her scar further. “Of course it is. Sorry. I’m being silly.”

“Can I help you with something?” I asked after a moment of silence passed between us, her staring at me, me staring at her. We both cared for Serena but in such different ways. The amount she must know about Serena—I wanted to ask—but I swallowed my needs. Others always came first.

She bit her lip, as if contemplating the same thing. “Why’d you pick her?” She couldn’t even say her name.

They did have the same hair color and complexion after all. Catelyn might have resembled Stephanie more, considering their blue eyes, and she looked enough like Serena that she could pass for the western blood camp escapee, but Catelyn was here and Serena’s gray eyes weren’t looking at me.

“Do you mean why didn’t I pick you?” I reworded her question.

Catelyn nodded.

I glanced over her to watch Steven rough up Huey’s hair. Huey. He transported with the feathers, if I remembered correctly.

“Don’t you want to be with Steven?” I asked.

She nodded again, but her question challenged mine. “Don’t you want to be with Serena?”

Her name made my heart lurch. “No.” Not if things go bad. “I want her to have a better life.”

“Without you in it?”

“That’s what makes it better.”

Catelyn folded her arms and cocked her hip to the side. “That’s really selfish of you.”

I fought the urge to mirror her movements. “Why do you say that?”

“She doesn’t want that,” Catelyn spoke like she knew Serena far better than I did—which she did—and petty jealously filled me. “She loves this life. It’s you who doesn’t,” she added. She thought she knew me too. “You see her as a human. She isn’t.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” I cut her off. “We’re all humans.” In fact, Serena convinced me of that. I had always taken the “bad” out of “bad blood,” but I had never considered us human. “But Serena’s the one that the world can see as human.” My voice softened. “I’m not going to stop that.”

“I miss her.” Her eyes welled up. “It’s only been a day, and I miss her.”

The way her voice cracked forced me to recognize why she was interrogating me so suddenly. A part of her—a small part of her—still thought she could get Serena back, that Serena hadn’t left yet, and if she had, that we might not see her ever again. And I had that part too.

I laid my hand on her shoulder, but I didn’t say anything. There was nothing to say. Serena was gone, and hopefully, we would win and no one would have to die, but the chances were just that. Chances. And for now, we only had one another and the memory of a girl who brought us together in her last moments with us.

“Is everything okay here?” Steven approached, his voice harder than before.

I nodded and let go of Catelyn. She leaned her back against his chest like she knew he would be there just in time to support her. He was. And I had to look at the wall to control my envy.

“Everything’s fine,” Catelyn whispered, trying to control her voice again. Steven must have believed her, too, because he nodded, gaining my attention.

“Thank you for writing their names,” he said, standing straighter than me. “I forget how important the little things are sometimes.”

Before I could respond, a high-pitched squeal erupted from the table, and we all turned to face the noise. Adam was playing with Melody, and the other kids were already begging for his attention too. Everyone loved Adam. It was one the reasons I regretted I had taken the leader’s position instead of him.

“I’ll be back later,” I mumbled, knowing Catelyn and Steven probably wouldn’t even hear my dismissal. I bee-lined for the stairs, hoping I wouldn’t get interrupted again, but hope was always useless. Robert was standing there, waiting for me. I should’ve suspected it since Adam wasn’t with him, but I had been too focused on the girl who looked like Serena.

I inhaled a large breath as I made my way over to him, but he kept his dark eyes on the energized crowd. “You’re teaching them how to write,” he guessed.

I wanted to snap, but I took another breath. A shaky one. “Why didn’t you teach them?”

His gaze slid over to me. “Because the last person I taught died.”

I stared back in defiance.

“Did you do this on purpose?” he asked. “To challenge me?”

“What?” The word left me without me thinking of it. “You’d be crazy to think that—”

His hand landed on my right shoulder before I even saw him move. He squeezed, and pain seethed down my spine. It took everything in me to keep standing. “Let’s make this perfectly clear now,” he said, leaning close enough that his hot breath landed on my cheek. “Just because Serena thinks she has a crush on you, doesn’t mean I like you. Just because we joined up, doesn’t mean we get along,” he said. “You’re dead to me.”

“I’m standing right in front of you,” I said between clenched teeth.

He released my shoulder. “Not for long.”

This time, his words, not his grip, forced me to stay. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

A stilled darkness lingered in his glare. “Sometimes battles are unavoidable.”

“Daniel?” Her little voice made us both turn to the coat closet, the one tucked behind the snowflake lamp we stood by. Peyton’s green eyes reached out of the darkness before she stepped out. How long she’d been hiding in there was a mystery, but it was long enough. Her pupils were wide. “We”—she glanced at Robert and then back at me—“Some of us were playing hide-and-seek, and…”

Even the eleven-year-old knew she wasn’t supposed to hear what she heard. I brushed past Robert to reach her. He didn’t even object.

“It’s okay, Peyton,” I said as softly as I could manage. “We were just talking.”

“That—” She looked back at Robert, and beneath my touch, she trembled. In the two years she’d been in the Northern Flock, I’d never seen Peyton afraid of anyone but Kally.

“Peyton.” I gave her a little shake so she’d look at me. “It’s going to be okay, all right?”

I listened to the floorboards creak, and I knew Robert had walked away, leaving me to deal with the frightened child he had scared. Anger boiled in my veins, but I kept myself in check for Peyton. “He wouldn’t hurt you,” I added in a whisper. “He wouldn’t hurt anybody,” I clarified, wishing I could believe my own words.

She bit her lip but nodded. “Go hide somewhere else,” I said, and she did exactly what I said.

I headed for the stairs and didn’t take two steps before I saw I wasn’t out of trouble yet. Maggie stood at my doorway, her red hair curled up around her frown. I shook my head as I made my way up the stairs to her. She must have checked on Blake when I couldn’t, but she blocked my door so I couldn’t see him myself. She waited for me to explain, but when I didn’t, she sighed. Her brown eyes watched the others over the railing.

“And here I was, thinking I was admiring Adam playing with kids,” she deadpanned.

“It’s not a big deal.”

“Robert threatened you.”

“He hates me,” I clarified. “No one else.”

“And you expect that’s going to help anything?” Her curls sprung up as if to add to her conviction.

I leaned against the wall. “I expect he’ll help everyone but me,” I said, “and that’s okay.”

Her eyes were daggers. “But you’re still going to tell me not to tell anyone about this?”

I nodded. “Especially Adam.” She frowned. “Maggie, please.”

She looked away like she couldn’t stand to look at me anymore, and a few deafening seconds passed between us—the leader and the redhead who had an undeniable crush on the boy who should’ve been the leader.

“They really are like us, aren’t they?” she almost whispered.

I thought of the Southern Flock kids. Melody, Timmy, Huey, Briauna, and more. All with different, terrifying stories that brought them to a kitchen table full of crayons and potential doom. “Yes.”

“Then we all have equal chances of dying,” she said coldly. “Don’t increase yours with whatever happened between you two, got it?”

Adam had told her. At least, she said it like he did. Like they were secretly dating and he’d spilled every secret of his—including my secret—to the redhead he’d pulled out of the gangs. Listening to her words made my skin prickle like glass was scraping away at me.

Maggie never used her powers. In fact, I had to ask Adam about them, and he only knew from one very specific day I wished I could’ve forgotten. Right after she was brought in, she told Adam he should’ve been the leader, and he screamed at her, told her he wished he had left her where her brother had left her, and that’s when it happened. Adam described the feeling as a thousand fire ants eating him from the inside out. Now I understood the feeling, but I understood far beyond that. Adam loved her. He always had. He just stopped himself from loving her. Why, I didn’t know, but if I had to guess, it had to do with that feeling her powers gave off. It was the opposite of love. It was pain. Real, mind-melting pain.

“It would kill him,” she said, the pain subsiding. “It would kill more than him.”

I nodded, blinking through the nausea rising up my throat, and as soon as I did, every sensation disappeared. Maggie nodded back, and I wondered if she was even aware of what she’d done to me. We all lost control, after all. But we were losing control more now than ever before.

Things were going to get worse. They always did.

My first night in the Highlands I stayed in a hotel—a hotel that was far beyond any house I’d been in. I had my own room, bathroom, living room, kitchen, and other rooms I didn’t know what they were for. It was bigger than Cal’s entire apartment, and I could see everything from the floor-to-ceiling window on the sixteenth floor. All but the outskirts. The lights of the city were too bright to see past them, but I tried anyway, straining my eyes the entire night.

Now that a day had passed, the sunlight seemed too bright for my insomniac eyes. Even though the car’s tinted windows blocked most of the Highlands out, I blinked my blurry vision away to study every last inch of the paved roads we drove down.

Catelyn would’ve loved it. All the shops and diners and colors. So many colors. Every building was custom-designed, purple and tall, then yellow and square, then red and oval. I leaned over to catch the sky, but skyscrapers blocked any clouds. All I could see was shine. Artificial shine. And my new clothes itched with my nerves.

My heart slammed against my chest every time I “met” someone’s eyes through the glass. I knew they couldn’t see me as we drove by, but I could see them—all clean and proper—and I felt as I always did in the outskirts, forced to see a world that refused to look back. I had to dig my nails into my palms to keep myself from rolling the window down, to scream at the fathers who walked with their children, children they’d never have to give up, to the couples who didn’t have to fear their future offspring.

We were so different, and yet they walked too.

I didn’t even know I had presumptions about the Highlands until Adelio drove me through it. When I pictured the Highlands, I pictured dozens of cars—all shapes and sizes—with only one person in each one. But most of the people walked like we did in the outskirts. I could barely fathom the main difference.

“There are so many people,” I said, hoping Adelio would explain how I was supposed to stand out. Compared to the outskirts, the Highlands were packed shoulder-to-shoulder. There would be no way to run in a crowd like this. In fact, we could barely drive through it. Our car inched forward, and people walked around us, as thick as a river.

“More people live in the Highlands than in the outskirts,” Adelio spoke as if he sensed my thoughts. “It’s part of the problem.”

I caught his dark gaze in the rearview mirror. “How are we supposed to fight this?”

I always knew bad bloods were a minority, but I hadn’t realized how small we were. Now, I felt as if I barely existed at all. The shine had outshone me. What Henderson was thinking was beyond me. I’d get crushed by a population I couldn’t comprehend.

Adelio’s eyes returned to the road as we moved to another stoplight. “One person can outshine a thousand, but you must be willing to shine.”

I scoffed. “Sounds like a cheap saying.”

“Nothing is cheap, Serena.”

My heart nearly stopped. Adelio knew my real name. He knew everything. Of course he did. He was a part of this lying life, like we all were, but to face it was another battle.

“How—” I tore my eyes away from the world around me. “How am I supposed to—uh—shine?”

Adelio shifted, and if I could have seen his face, I imagined he would be smiling. Apparently, I had asked the right question. “You’ve been away, studying for humanitarian reasons.” I memorized every word like I had memorized the best ways to avoid police on the streets. “Your parents thought you’d excel in boarding school,” he paused, as if to consider the next part carefully. “That’s where you met me.”

“You?” It took a moment to register his words. “You were brought into this just for me?”

He didn’t nod, but his hands tightened on the steering wheel. “As a personal assistant to both help you here and to help you continue your studies in the future.” So the Hendersons were planning on getting rid of me when it was all over. I wondered if Daniel knew, and he was just counting on the fact that they might let me stay anyway.

I swallowed my nerves. “And where exactly did we meet?”

“South Africa.”

“Southern where?”

“South Africa,” he emphasized the last three syllables. “Johannesburg to be exact.”

The place might as well have been in another galaxy, a star I couldn’t even see in the Highlands’ sky. “I have no idea where that is.”

“Nowhere near this country.”

I tried to imagine what else was out there, but nothing came. My creativity died with insecurity. But this man knew it. And many other men and women and children must have known it. I wondered if they wondered about us, if there was someone in a boarding school in Johannesburg who studied Vendona, maybe even a bad blood. I hadn’t had time to consider any of it before today. “What’s it like? The rest of the world?”

“I don’t know.”

“But—”

“I’m not from there, Sere—Stephanie.” His accent changed, and he suddenly sounded like Mr. and Mrs. Henderson. “But people believe what they want to.” My gut sank. “Ignorance allows people to presume.”

Adelio was from Vendona. The accent was fake. Even I had fallen for it.

“What part?” I didn’t have to clarify I was asking him where in Vendona he was actually from.

“Western.”

And that was that. Or so I thought.

“My family,” he added the single word like it was the most difficult word to speak in the world. “They were killed by Logan’s party.”

“Bad bloods?” I guessed.

“Human.”

“I don’t understand—”

“They were protesting the ambush,” he said.

Humans protesting for the bad bloods.

“This fight has been going on much longer than you’ve been alive, Miss Serena.” His eyes caught mine in the mirror again, but this time, they were harder, determined and alert. “But you can end it.”

“I fear it’s already over.”

“It never is.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but the car swung to the left and I gripped my seat like his driving would toss me out the closed window. I still wasn’t used to it, but what I saw on the curb frightened me more. Cameras, hundreds of them, waited for me.

“We’re here,” he said, clarifying what he didn’t have to, and he turned around to face me head-on for the first time all day. “Stephanie.” His fake accent even returned. “You are not to say anything. Not a word. Don’t answer questions. Don’t look at them. Smile. Nod. Walk straight for the door.”

The rules. They had them too. Their own rules for survival. And now they were mine too.

I nodded, and he stepped out, opening my door the very next second.

If I thought the Highlands was bright before, I definitely thought it was now. It was a summer sun in the dead of winter. It was blinding, and I was walking blind into a battle I was ill-prepared for—a battle I was supposed to win—and I had to do it all with a smile on my face.

I stepped out and used my only weapon. I grinned.

***

I had seen the Henderson’s house once before on television, but I had never seen footage of the inside. While the outside was a tall, lean structure, the inside didn’t give any hint of that. It seemed wider than the outside appeared. Even more unfathomable was the amount of people walking in and out of the innumerable rooms lined up in countless hallways and staircases.

“The worst of it is over,” Adelio whispered as he locked all twelve deadbolts on the front door, trapping them out, keeping me in. It was only then that I realized my act as Stephanie Henderson went far beyond one speech. Every worker in the house thought I was the Henderson’s long-lost daughter, returning from over a decade of schooling, but not a single worker actually glanced my way.

They had to know. They had to know it was a lie. Everyone did.

I swallowed.

“Stephanie!” Mrs. Henderson’s voice entered the room before she did, and I was glad I recognized her voice because her appearance had transformed overnight.

Her silver-blonde hair lay on her shoulders in tight ringlets, almost childlike, and her face was makeup free. She even wore pajamas, and when she hugged me, she smelled like cinnamon. Like she was baking. She could’ve been anyone’s mother, but I had to tell myself she was mine.

“Welcome home, my dear.” She touched my cheeks, holding my face in her hands, and laid a kiss on my forehead. I couldn’t even move.

Her wide smile was nothing like my tight-lipped one. She flinched as if realizing for the first time I was, in fact, not her daughter. I wondered how much it hurt to pretend Stephanie was coming home when she wasn’t returning today. Probably never.

“Well, then.” She turned toward the stairs. “Why don’t we go talk in your room?” She was leading me without admitting to leading me.

I fought myself from asking Adelio about bags. There were none. I had nothing. While I half-expected they’d at least give me a bag of clothes to pretend I was traveling, they did nothing but hand me a singular outfit—an itchy white dress and red coat, like blood on snow—and everything else was supposedly waiting for me here. Apparently, people in the Highlands could afford such luxuries.

“Your father is coming home soon for a late dinner,” she said over her shoulder, and I noticed her earrings, surprisingly worn, bouncing as she took each stair. “He’s excited to see you.”

I nodded, even though she couldn’t see me. I would’ve liked to speak to Jane, but the house was overwhelmingly plain compared to the Highlands we drove through. I hadn’t seen a single painting or statue or golden dish filled with candy—all the types of things I’d heard people in the Highlands had. The worst of it was the smell. It was as if the house had been doused in soap and mint. It reminded me too much of Daniel—and thinking of Daniel reminded me of the others.

When we reached the top of the stairs, the bright lights of the entryway disappeared to another section of the house I hadn’t seen before. From the floor to the ceiling, a long white column stretched, covered in Christmas lights. I had nearly forgotten about the holiday, but the lights were warm, leaving only streaks of golden light streaming across the barren brown walls. For being so colorful outside, the Henderson’s kept their house pretty drab.

“Home sweet home,” Mrs. Henderson said as we approached a red door. It reminded me of my parents’ front door. The color was nearly the same, and it was the only color the Henderson’s seemed to have in their house. It wasn’t until she pushed the door open that I realized how wrong I was. The entire room was red, a deep maroon color that could never be painted over.

“Wow.”

Jane shot me a look. “It has been a while.” Her words said everything she couldn’t. I had to stay in character. “Let’s talk inside?”

I nodded and followed her in. When she shut the door and locked it, my heart skipped a beat. I didn’t like locks. I didn’t like how high we were in the house or how there was only one window—that also seemed to be locked. My senses were already searching for a place to escape.

Jane sat on the bed as if she had been holding her breath all day. “There are no cameras in here.”

“Cameras?” I hadn’t even realized that could be a possibility until she said it.

She nodded, but her eyes went to the closed window, the one with black drapes across them. “All Vendona council members have them, but we’re allowed our privacy in one room.”

One room. That was all the privacy they had.

“We chose Stephanie’s a long time ago. Right when she was born,” Jane’s voice faded off, and her fingers curled against the light red duvet. Her nails were painted the same color. “Everything was for her, really. Still is.”

She was dead. That much was clear. Even Mrs. Henderson couldn’t believe her daughter was alive any longer. She’d disappeared nine years ago, and while I knew many families held onto hope forever, there was a reason Jane hadn’t.

“Was she—?”

I stopped myself. Asking if her missing daughter was a bad blood was out of the question, but I had my answer. It was the lost look in Jane’s eyes that gave it away. Jane didn’t know. Neither did Alec. It was a mystery and that was the worst part.

“We suspect as much,” she finally said, standing up from the bed to cross the room. As she reached the desk and opened a drawer, she spoke to me. “Sit down, my dear.”

It was an order, but it was a soft one.

I did as I was told, and she rejoined me, sitting so close I would’ve thought we were lifelong friends. I could still smell the cinnamon on her skin.

“Please, call me Jane,” she began, holding the photo in her hand like she wasn’t sure how she could let it go. “Stephanie always did. Even when she was small.”

With that, she held my hand and slipped the photograph into my palm. Her fingertips dragged against the little girl’s face tenderly, like the photo could shatter any moment.

Stephanie Mackenzie Henderson. She had her mother’s hair and the shape of her father’s eyes. The smile was unlike either one of theirs, and I knew why my smile had bothered Jane. Even though the photo was eight years old, I could see our resemblance. We had the same complexion and round cheeks and dirty-blonde hair. We even had similar noses, small like our smiles, and bony shoulders. If I had a photo of myself at eight, it would’ve taken a mastermind to see the differences.

“Maybe,” Jane began, “maybe there is some relation.”

My heart squeezed as Jane squeezed my hand. “It’s rare for someone to be able to leave their city-state since 2041, and even before then, families generally stayed where they were from,” she said it like it explained everything, but I didn’t understand. Her head tilted. “Generations of Vendona’s people have only been with one another.”

The Henderson’s great-grandparents could’ve been mine.

I stared back at Stephanie Henderson, waiting for answers, but all I saw was Catelyn—another girl who looked like my twin. Perhaps our genes were just dominant. I had heard Robert talk about them before. Maybe it was a sign of one bad blood lineage.

I touched Stephanie’s face, wondering for the first time what exactly happened to the little girl I didn’t even know existed until recently. Vendona had swallowed her up whole—bones and all.

“What was she like?”

“Stephanie,” she said her name, half as if she was acknowledging me and half like she was talking about her daughter. “She was always daydreaming. She never wanted to live in the real world; she always seemed to be separated from other children her age. They couldn’t understand her or her imagination. She was always thinking outside of the box, breaking rules, and only following what her heart told her was right.”

“She sounds,” I paused, “like an amazing young girl.” She would’ve been eighteen if she were still here.

Jane’s eyes glossed over. “She was. Lively. Spritely. A little fireball when she was mad. She loved mystery books and secrets. She loved secrets most of all.”

And it was probably because she had kept the biggest one.

I handed back the photo, practically forcing it into Jane’s hands, and she took it like it was a soft exchange. Forgiveness was her own kind of power—a human power I couldn’t fathom—and through that, Jane turned everyone soft. My own insides were melting with held back tears. She watched me like she knew.

“Let’s get you ready for dinner,” she said, deciding the next movements for me.

I stayed seated as she stood, crossed the room, and moved the wall. Or, at least, I thought it was a wall. It was actually a rotating closet, something I’d never even heard of, and she skimmed it with simple ease. All grown-up clothes, like Jane had stocked it for me—or for her daughter that would never come home.

“What do you think of what you’re wearing now?” she asked, never turning around.

I found my voice. “It’s itchy.” I even tugged at the sleeves. “And I’d prefer a little—more.”

Jane shot a smile over her shoulder, and two minutes later, she was tossing a long red dress at me. It was soft and thick like velvet, and black curled around both sides, like it would add curves to my almost-starved bones. I held it in my lap, unsure of what to say. This would sell for a month’s worth of food for my flock. But I was expected to wear it—and eat in it. I hoped we’d be eating something other than chocolate bars tonight.

“Do you not like it?” Jane asked when I hesitated to move.

Instead of explaining my misfortunes—because it’d get us nowhere—I focused on intel. I needed more information if I were going to blend in. “Why red?”

A squeak leapt out of Jane’s throat like she actually thought I wouldn’t notice, but when I looked at her, her right hand was raised to the worn earrings. “It was her favorite color.”

“She made those?”

Jane nodded. “With a jewelry making kit for kids,” she said, and I marveled such a toy existed. “They used to be red,” she explained, “but over the years, the cheap coloring wore off. I had the silver polished.” She tilted her forehead toward my wrist. “Daniel gave you that, right?”

This time, I was the one to squeak.

“He seems like a very nice boy,” she said what I couldn’t.

I stared down at the jewelry he’d given me during my departure. I even touched it. The bracelet was the nicest object I owned, but it was more than that. It was all the stars I could no longer see. It was my family hanging on my wrist, a reminder of how I would see them again.

“There are a lot of nice people out there, Jane,” I said, thinking of every face, every last bad blood and flock member that deserved a life. “That’s why I agreed to come—to save them, to save people like Stephanie too.”

Jane’s eyes welled up. “Then let’s do the best we can, yes?”

“Always.”

Blake’s coughing woke me up, but my grumbling stomach told me the time. I’d been out for hours—maybe even the entire day—and so had Blake. When I turned onto my side, his big blue eyes faced me like the lake we fished by, wet and motionless.

I raised my hand to his forehead and focused on keeping my thoughts calm as I felt his powers push against my mind. He was too weak to read me.

“How are you feeling?” I asked, worrying my whisper would be too loud for whatever headache he probably had.

He coughed again, bringing his teddy bear up to his burning cheeks. “I’m like you.”

“What do you mean?”

“You were sick, and then I got sick, and that means I’m like you.” He grinned only to erupt into coughing again.

It was a reminder that I was probably the reason he caught such a nasty cold.

“You don’t want to get sick, Blake.”

“Nope,” he agreed, snuggling into his teddy bear, but he didn’t close his eyes. He pressed his lips against his teddy’s forehead and whispered against it. I had to lean in to understand him when he repeated himself. “I can hear them.”

The thoughts. All the others kids.

“They had dads and moms too,” he said it like it was a fact instead of a question, and I wondered what memories and thoughts had bombarded him throughout the day and night. Blake had no control.

I pushed his blond hair away from his clammy forehead. “You do too.”

He shook his head, tears pushing out of his eyes. Even he knew well enough that his situation was different. He saw enough memories of others to know that.

“Then,” I took in a breath. “Think of me as your father.”

His blue eyes blinked, like little oceans, coming and going in waves. “And Mom?”

“Michele.”

He pressed his nose against his teddy bear again, his forehead wrinkling with every thought that went through his mind—even thoughts that probably weren’t his own.

“Their parents left because of their bad blood.” Another thought that wasn’t his own. Blake didn’t even understand that bad blood was a noun, not an adjective.

I stroked his back. “You can’t believe everything you see in their heads.”

“But it’s their thoughts—”

“And people think strange things all the time.” My voice shook. “That’s why the election is so important. It helps people think new, better things.”

Blake’s eyebrows stitched together. “Will my bad blood get better?”

“Of course.” I had to swallow my explanation. It would be lost on him. Bad bloods wouldn’t get better. We would remain the same. It was the world that had to get better.

“And I’ll have good blood? I won’t be sick?”

“Blake, you have good blood.”

But he fell asleep.

A shaky sigh escaped me. The little boy had come in a broken basket, with no clothes or toys or even a letter. How they found the house, I would never know and neither would Blake. He’d grow up and never know a thing. At least, I knew where I came from. At least, I knew what happened to my parents. At least, I could hate them. Blake would wonder instead, maybe even glorify them at some point, and I didn’t know which one was worse, hate or loving someone who didn’t deserve it.

I draped his arm over his teddy bear before dragging his blanket back up over him.

“Dad?”

I froze as he mumbled the word. He had never used it. Not even as a baby. But it took him saying it for me to realize how unusual that was. Maybe he could read minds, even as an infant. Maybe we didn’t think in thoughts but in emotions, and he had known he was abandoned from day one. Maybe his parents had known too. Maybe they had the same abilities to know what he was from the day he was born. Maybe that was how they found us. So many things were a maybe. So many maybes that made me want to punch a wall. But there was something far more important to do.

“It’s all right, kiddo. I’ll love you no matter how you are. No matter if you are gifted or not, your mother and I will love you all the way to the end of forever.”

I hoped my voice would reach him in his sleep, words his mother and father should’ve said to him, words I had no right to give him but I wanted to give anyway, words I had to give him, words every child deserved to hear.

When I forced myself to stand up, my body ached, and my stiff muscles didn’t loosen until I reached the doorway. As I stepped out of my bedroom and shut the door behind me, I knew something was wrong. It was quiet. Too quiet. Especially for twenty-three kids in the house, including me.

I sucked in a breath and held it as I made my way downstairs. It didn’t take long to see what was happening. The entirety of the two flocks was sitting around, the whole group waiting for something. Waiting for me.

Their eyes landed on me, but there were too many to return the stare. I had to find one person in particular. Michele. Her gray eyes were fixed into a glare and her normally pale cheeks were bright red, as red as Maggie’s curls. I found her next, sitting next to Adam, and for once, they held hands, but he let go of her as soon as he saw me. He started to stand up, but Floyd rose from the large table first.

“We’ve been talking.”

“I can see that,” I said, taking the last two steps into the entryway. The table was full of the older kids—Robert, Adam, and Maggie, with Floyd now standing, and Michele standing behind him. Niki was leaned against the wall nearest to Robert, her arms folded over her chest. The middle kids—Ami, Vi, Ryne, and Kally—stood in the hall, right in front of the kitchen, and the youngest scattered around the living room, mainly sitting where the carpet met the wood floors. Everyone was nervous. Their curled up fists, flushed faces, or twitching habits told me that.

I found Robert at the far end of the table, as far as he could be away from me, with as much table between us as possible. He didn’t look back at me.

“It’s been twenty-four hours,” I said, knowing exactly what they’d talked about. “We can’t afford to fight.”

“Not a fight, Daniel,” Robert said, monotone. “Just a discussion.” He still wouldn’t look at me. He was fixated on the wall instead.

“I’m the one who brought it up,” Floyd bragged, his dark eyes gleaming.

It was Floyd. It wasn’t even Robert. Floyd was the one causing the distress, and I tried to read Robert, knowing he’d spied on us for years. Perhaps he knew of Floyd. Perhaps that’s why he thought a battle was unavoidable. This fight had been stirring for years.

“The final speeches are in four days, and we’re not even organized.” Floyd gestured to all the kids, some of whom hadn’t even showered since arriving. The group was simply too big to control. We all knew it, but Floyd was using it. “We need one leader to unify us,” he said what I knew he would.

My fingers twitched at my sides. “And I suppose I know who you picked.”

“It’s nothing personal,” Robert said it like it wasn’t.

And maybe he was right.

None of his followers were against him, but I only had one member who defied me, and for the first time since I saved Floyd from the bar, I wished I had listened to Adam and abandoned the eldest member on the streets. The fleeting thought of murdering him went through me. This was the exact reason I should’ve never been a leader in the first place. I cared too much. Even now, I still cared enough to find logical words instead of emotional ones.

“There’s no reason for this,” I started slowly. “There’s nothing to even lead. We’re waiting.”

Floyd rocked back on his heels, taller now. “And when we do have to lead again?”

Eventually, the results would come out, and either way, we’d have a new future to deal with. Our options weren’t pretty either. We’d lose and fight until we died, or win and continue to fight against generational discrimination for our rights to live.

I swallowed, bringing my eyes down on Robert. “What do you think about this?”

“I think Floyd is correct,” he said, “from a militarized standpoint.”

Someone would have to make a call, and if two people were giving conflicting orders at the same time, we’d probably all end up dead.

“We aren’t at war yet—”

“Aren’t we?” Robert’s voice sliced through me, and heat rose in the air. Adam also rose into the air, standing up from his chair. Maggie tried to pull him down, but he shook her off.

“Why’d you come if you wanted to tear us apart?” His scream came out as fast as his powers allowed him to move. I almost didn’t understand him, but Robert remained calm, like he had years of practice listening to Adam’s screams.

“I didn’t. I came because”—he looked back at the wall—“it’s best for everyone.”

“I’d rather die than listen to you,” Adam spat.

Robert’s eyes flicked over to Adam, reading the boy’s expression. I wondered if he realized Adam knew about our past. Robert’s small smile told us he knew everything. “That might happen.”

Adam paled.

Maggie cursed. “Don’t talk like that.” But the little kids had already heard.

It was Melody that tugged on my leg, just like Blake would’ve done, but it was Tessa—the giver of life—that spoke first. “Are we going to die?” She was only nine.

“No,” I said, resting my hand on top of Melody’s hair. She disappeared beneath my touch, but I could feel her arms squeezing my calf. Ami, the blonde, had to come forward to drag her off me.

“We can’t lie,” Robert started, but I cut him off.

“I’ve kept my flock informed. I trained them. I taught them to read. I’ve raised them with others, and I’m the one with the safe house, not to mention this one.” Words raced out of me like they would be my last. “You will not take my life from me.”

Robert blinked, the corners of his mouth inching up. “We have the same training, Daniel.” I froze, wondering if he’d tell everyone about our past right here, right now. “But I have one extra vote.” He even gestured to Floyd.

He wasn’t wrong. We had the same number of members in our flocks until Serena left, and Floyd could be a tipping point.

“That’s hardly a reason to change leaders,” Michele said. It was the first time I’d heard her speak so calmly. Unlike everyone else, she seemed unfazed by it all, but Vi was the opposite.

“I could put all your kids in the shadows,” she snarled at Robert.

His eyebrows shot up.

“That won’t be necessary,” I muttered quickly, but Vi met my eyes with a drowning, dark glare.

“You can’t let him take our home.” Her voice cracked. “It’s our home. Not theirs. It’s our only home. Daniel—”

“Vi.” My voice strained against my throat.

Her black eyes welled up, and for the first time, she seemed more human than bad blood—or whatever she was. Peyton grabbed her hand. Vi didn’t fight it. Neither did any of the Southern Flock kids.

My eyes washed over them—their skinny faces and dirty clothes and bitten nails—until my stare landed on Steven and Catelyn. Both of them avoided my eyes.

“What would Serena want?” I asked them anyway.

“She—” Robert started, but I held up my hand.

“Not you. Them,” I said, gesturing to her best friend, the girl Serena described as a sister and the boy who dated her sister. Two people I’d attacked myself.

Catelyn’s blue eyes moved up to Robert, then over to me, then over to Robert. “She wouldn’t want us to fight.”

“That’s not an option,” Floyd snapped.

“Then she’d pick Daniel.”

Catelyn’s words choked the room. It was the last thing I expected. Robert, too. He almost fell out of his chair like he’d lost a throne.

“And if she didn’t,” Catelyn continued, but Steven grabbed her arm, melding his hand with her skin. I’d never seen him use his powers before, and now, he was using them to try to stop her, but suddenly, his arm went straight through her. From my standpoint, it looked like Catelyn was impaled with her boyfriend’s limb, but neither was in pain. “I would pick Daniel too.”

The heat in the house grew instantly, and I realized why Steven had tried to stop her. Robert’s powers were stifling. His anger. Catelyn met his eyes without reverence. “I’m sorry. I am.” She sounded like she meant it. “But Daniel has been honest and open and—” Her hand found Maggie’s free hand. “You threatened Daniel for no reason.” Maggie’s nod confirmed they had spoken, and she held Adam’s hand with her free one. The two couples. They had bonded. A true alliance.

“I second Catelyn,” Steven surrendered, but grabbed Catelyn’s free hand, no melding involved. The four connected like a barrier.

No one moved. Floyd didn’t even speak, and Niki followed his silence. Someone started to cry. One of the younger kids. But I wasn’t sure if it was from the heat or the conversation. I couldn’t check because Robert was glaring at me.

“I guess I have more votes,” I said, monotone.

Robert stood up slowly, even taking time to brush invisible dirt off his shirt, and then, he did the unthinkable. He grabbed a knife off the table

Adam appeared in front of me like he would gladly take the blade in his chest, but Robert never tried to stab me. He offered it instead.

“We can’t be led by someone who can’t control their own powers,” he said, revealing one of my only secrets I kept from my own flock.

A row of gasps flowed through the room.

“He’s healed all of us,” Tessa argued, her high-pitched voice sounding more like a yipping puppy than a young girl. “He’s taught me how to heal things too. He’s—”

Ron grabbed her, despite being deaf, and Kally joined. Each Northern Flock kid lined up with one another, with Vi standing in front of them.

“Let’s see it,” Robert said, ignoring everyone else. “Cut yourself and don’t heal.”

Michele stepped into my vision. “You can’t control it?” It was the first time I heard her doubt me.

Adam, too. “But you taught me how to.”

A chorus of kids seconded what everyone else was saying. I had taught them. I had taught every last one of them. And I had taught them a lesson I didn’t even know myself.

I took the knife and stared at it, so I could avoid looking my flock in the eyes. My twelve years of leadership was coming down to a knife, a knife that oddly looked like the one Serena planned to use against me the night after I saved her from Shadow Alley. At the thought, a smile escaped me.

“Go ahead,” Robert pressed.

“This is ridiculous—”

“You can’t even heal a sick child.” His words sliced through me like he’d cut me himself. Blake. Luke. Of course, Robert would bring up Luke.

No one dared to take a breath as I lifted it to my palm and sliced deep into my skin. Blood seeped up, and everyone’s attention was on me until Michele stepped up and grabbed my hand, hiding the cut from everyone. I felt my blood wet her palm.

“I’ve seen gunshots and blood in the future,” she screamed at Robert. Actually screamed. “I doubt you want to see it again.”

Gunshots. The single word caught me. She told me one gunshot before, and now, there were more.

Adam closed in on her and stepped back in front of me. Maggie joined, dragging Catelyn with her, and Steven made his way over too. Vi even popped up from the shadows, as if to show off her abilities, and soon, a barricade of people stood between Robert and I—all of them but Niki and Floyd on my side.

His dark eyes flicked across the faces of his flock, but the rest of his expression never budged. His body moved instead.

He rushed to the front door like a better life awaited him on the other end. No one moved but me. When he opened the door and disappeared into the night, I chased after him. I’d seen that look on his face before.

“Where—”

Robert spun around, and the November cold hit me, hard. I lost my voice in my throat. Robert smiled because the cold never affected him. “Again?” His caring tone was lost on me. “I thought you would’ve learned.”

It occurred to me we had run far enough away from the house so that no one could hear us. The entire chase hadn’t even lasted a few seconds, and yet, we were enveloped in the shadows of Vendona’s streets, the grassy hill leading up to the western side behind us. It was quiet enough that I swore I could hear the grass behind him swaying, urging him to run further, to run on the same streets we’d run on before.

“Don’t do this.” I couldn’t believe I was saying it.

“They’re yours.”

Robert was leaving the flocks.

I stepped back, unsure of what to do: hit him, kill him, or let him leave.

Robert’s gaze drifted from my right shoulder to above it, and I had to force myself to keep my eyes on him instead of turning around. Surely the flock was waiting on the front porch, searching the darkness for where their leaders had run. All their faces. All their lives. Robert could leave it all behind.

“If I don’t—” he started, dragging his eyes back to me. They twitched. “You should’ve been the first to leave.”

The past. Serena. I would’ve found her instead of him. Or she would’ve found me. I wouldn’t have taken her and none of this would’ve happened. The two flocks would’ve never been connected at all. We could’ve lived all of our lives separately.

“We can’t lead together.” He said it like it was a fact. “And we won’t live if we fight.”

“I’ll get rid of Floyd—”

“For what reason? For me?” He shook his head. “No. It’s for her, isn’t it?” When he smiled, it didn’t reach his eyes. “She loves me. I know. But she cares for you too, and—” His voice cracked, and it reminded me of how he sounded when he came to me five years ago to heal Serena. “You told her, right?”

“No.”

Robert, for the first time, seemed to hesitate. He didn’t even move.

“Henderson will,” I finally found a way to tell him. “I gave him the picture.”

The whole world would know.

“You kept it?” His voice was barely audible, and only got worse when he grabbed his face, shaking his head back and forth. For the first time in my life, I wanted to grab him and shake him. Even worse, I wanted to tell him every last thing that had happened. “Of course you kept it,” he finally decided, like he knew me, like he had always known me. His eyes peered at me between his fingers. “What do you think will happen if we’re in the same room with them?”

The flocks. They would watch the speeches, and Henderson would explain how we all came to be. Robert and I would be exposed. It would be nothing new to us, but it would be chaos to the world, a burden we’d carried on our own, separate and severed.

“You always have left me to face the worst,” I said, emotionless.

Robert nodded, not even ashamed of who he was. It was why I hated him. It was why I knew he had died somewhere in the past too. “You’ll always be dead to me, Daniel, but the others—” He took a step backward, up the hill. His brown hair caught the wind, spiking up like little horns against the blackness, and yet, he gave me the most sincere smile I’d ever seen. “Take care of them, and for God’s sake—”

He never finished his words. His face twisted, and I leaned forward like I could snatch the words out of his lungs, as if the wind could steal the words I’d always wanted him to say. But he turned around instead.

When he took a step, he took another, and then, he broke out into a run, sprinting up the hill like he’d done it a hundred times, and he found the darkest shadows to melt into. A bad blood’s skills could be used even against another bad blood. Even I knew I couldn’t follow him now. I had tried once before, and I found Cal instead. He found Serena. This time, I wondered if he’d ever find anyone. I tried anyway. I started up the hill and only stopped when the wind hit me. It brought his voice to my ears.

“Don’t follow me again.”

He knew I’d try.

My knees hit the ground, my fingers digging into the cold dirt, and I didn’t move until someone laid a hand on my shoulder. Adam. He knelt next to me. I wondered how long he had been there.

“He’s gone,” I choked out. “For good.”

Adam’s eyes trailed up the hill. “What are we going to do?”

Even though Robert hadn’t been the one to challenge me, Robert’s departure was a threat. It was the situation. His entire flock followed him. They listened to him. They would never listen to me. They might even blame me for his abandonment. Serena, too.

“I should’ve been the one—”

Adam smacked the back of my head before I could finish my thought. “You aren’t leaving,” he said. “You are staying, and you will be the leader, and you will get us through this.”

“You’re the one giving orders.”

He yanked me up again, this time by the collar of my jacket. “Daniel.” His voice was calmer this time, like Calhoun’s. “They fought for you. Not me. You need to tell us what to do.”

“I don’t know,” I said, looking down at my hand where I had cut myself. The slice had healed, just like Robert knew it would, and I realized why Michele had jumped in front of me. A distraction. She knew Robert was right, but Robert was the one who allowed her to protect me. He left the flocks and let me keep my power, my identity, my life. He was gone. Again. And it was only then that I realized how much it was crushing me. The past. The present. The future. All of it. I couldn’t control it just like I couldn’t control my powers. “I really don’t know.”

Watching Jane drained the energy out of me. She walked back and forth from room to room as she shouted orders, somehow finding a way to sound delicately feminine even though she yelled. On top of that, she did it all in ruby red heels.

All morning, she directed and called, scheduled and smiled. A single strand of her white-blonde hair never fell out of its pinned-up place, and she always kept her focused demeanor neutral. Between her errands and orders, she found the time to tutor me on the government system I lived under—a system, I was beginning to realize, I knew little to nothing about.

“We live in the Council of States, and that’s the same name as our main branch of government.” She found a way to explain without sounding condescending.

“The most powerful one?”

“Yes,” she confirmed. “It’s made up of all the city-state presidents, and below that, are the Regional Councils.” I’d never even heard of it. “Vendona is a section of the South Council, the 167th city-state to be exact.” I actually knew which number we were. “And then, of course, Vendona is separated into the Highlands and the outskirts.” Only one deserved a capital letter. “The outskirts were naturally divided into four parts, all labeled by a Cardinal Direction.” She smiled. “It’s not so complicated when you break it down.”

But it was complicated. “Where does Alec stand in all this?”

“He’s a councilman in the South Council,” she answered calmly, even though I felt like she was repeating herself. “If elected, he’ll move up to the Council of States.”

“What does that have to do with bad bloods?”

Mrs. Henderson couldn’t quite answer that question. She didn’t have time to. After some initial tutoring, she was drawn back to her political duties dictating where and when and what Mr. Alec Henderson needed to be doing. It seemed to me, Mrs. Jane Henderson was the one running for president, not her husband.

“How are you doing, dear?” She slid into Stephanie’s bedroom—my bedroom—with ease.

I could barely keep myself standing. My ankles shook as I tried to stand on two-inch heels, but Jane remained calm. “We’ll get you flats and put you in a long dress to cover them up.”

I nodded too enthusiastically, and my blonde bun sunk to my neck. Jane laughed as I scrambled to get it. One of her workers had fixed my hair only a few minutes ago. For the fourth time that day. When I failed to hold it together, my hands crumbled to my sides, along with my ego.

“I’m so sorry,” I said, but she waved my worries away with one flick of her hand.

“We have twenty minutes anyway.” She reminded me of what all the chaos was for. A pre-election party. The first place I’d appear in public. “Sit.”

I did, she did too, and her hands were on my hair in seconds. On top of being a political magician, Jane Henderson could fix hair like a master. Her touch reminded me of Catelyn’s, and I couldn’t help but close my eyes and pretend my sister was there. For those two seconds, Catelyn and I were sitting in my room, her on my bed, me on the floor, as she braided my hair and giggled about the latest thing Steven did for her.

I wondered what she was doing now.

“There.” Jane patted my back. “You’re good to go.”

As I stood, my scalp stretched, and when I went to touch it, she swatted my hand away. A pained smile escaped me. “It hurts.”

“It will.” She pointed at my shoes. “Those won’t though when we get you in some flats.”

She made her way to the closet, and in seconds, she returned with a new dress and sparkling shoes and everything else I imagined regular little girls dreamed of. All I could think about was how hard it would be to run in delicate footwear and how quickly I’d have to find shelter before I froze in the thin fabric. My mind wasn’t wired for this.

“You’ll be fine, Serena.”

I looked up from the shoes to meet Jane’s eyes. She wasn’t smiling, but warmth radiated from her, as if she could hug people from a distance. “Just stick with me,” she said, “and we’ll take this town down together.”

“Isn’t Alec supposed to…uh…take it down?” I didn’t understand her phrase completely, but she grinned at my question.

“No one does it alone,” she said, not clarifying if she prevented him from being alone or if he prevented her from being alone. I imagine it was equal for both of them, but the idea baffled me.

“Even flocks have leaders.” Even the streets had ranks.

Jane’s red-lipstick mouth didn’t budge. “I won’t pretend I know what it’s like, dear, but”—she paused to drape the dress in my arms—“I imagine there was more than one leader in there.”

Her eyes didn’t flee from mine. She meant me. And others. I let Catelyn and Steven and even Niki flood my thoughts. The older kids had their places—Niki next to Robert, Catelyn and Steven with the kids, and me. I had stood somewhere in between, a voice on both sides, and that was why Robert always confided in me. He had taken my opinions and made orders out of them. “My voice was heard,” I said, trying to explain.

“Good.” She glanced at her watch, signaling our last ten minutes. “Make sure your voice is heard again and again.”

***

Alec Henderson rode separately, but he met us at the doors. The chilly air was ice to my bones, and I cursed the sheer fabric of the dress. I didn’t warm up until Alec led us inside. Heaters blasted against my skin, and I forgot all about how cold November had become.

Jane looped her arm through mine, and we continued to walk, one slow step after the next. Even though I was in flats, I worried about stumbling over the ends of my dress, and Jane kept up our steady pace, pretending as if we were mother and daughter strolling through the gala together. I appreciated her, but I loved her even more when we reached the main room.

Dozens—no, hundreds—of people flooded the hexagonal room, draped in shimmering silk, delicate lace, and sparkling sequins. Jane taught me all about my clothes, in case someone inquired, and I memorized it swiftly. I was instructed to tell others I wore red in honor of bad bloods. I didn’t even know we had a color, but I suspected we didn’t. It was made up for the story we couldn’t tell. The one about wearing Stephanie’s favorite color in her memory. My red dress was Carré, a designer named after the origins of Vendona, specifically the Highlands before they were lifted. That was the other thing I learned. There was a reason the outskirts were sunken into the mud and cobblestones while the Highlands towered over us. It wasn’t a hill or a mountain. It was manmade. A section of town lifted over time. Jane didn’t have much time to explain all of that, but she did say everything that used to stand in the Highlands was gone. Some of the original buildings were tucked away in the outskirts, and the teens had made a game out of them. They’d sneak out at night and explore the outskirts, teasing one another if they got scared. Everything about it reminded me of my mother’s fairy tales and stories about moons and monsters. Except we were the monsters. All of us. Not just the bad bloods, but everyone in the outskirts. All the poor.

“Jane.” A man about her age approached us, a child at his side. “I’m glad I caught you before we left.”

The little boy held a blood-crusted rag against his nose. “Sorry, ma’am.” Even rich people could bleed. Even they could apologize.

“No need. No need,” Jane said, drifting away in a conversation I could barely pay attention to, and before I knew it, they were gone.

“That was the president of Elsinare,” she said like I should know where his city-state was. When I didn’t respond, she clarified he came from the north. It reminded me that Vendona was in the south of the country.

“I’m about as southern as you get, I guess,” I mumbled, thinking of my flock, but Jane pulled me to the side.

“It’s not that simple.”

“What—”

“The compass…well…they moved it.”

“Moved—”

Her sad smile silenced me. “We are technically in the south, dear, but your education…your location has been led to believe you’re in the east now.” She shook her head, like she knew how nonsensical she sounded. “It was an adjustment to show how different we are now from the past. It’s a name, really, not a technicality. We still use the poles to indicate direction during travel, and…”

She continued to ramble, but my thoughts locked onto one particular piece. “That means I lived in the west this whole time.”

Her eyes moved across my face. “Yes.”

“And the Northern Flock—”

“In the east,” she clarified. “The Western Flock was in the north.”

My stomach sank. I did not like the comparison. Everyone knew what had happened to the Western Flock twelve years ago. They were killed—massacred—without a single survivor. Fifteen kids had died.

“I don’t understand,” I finally said.

She raised a brow. “Don’t you?”

It was another reason the outskirts were looked down upon. We didn’t even know where we stood or what we faced. We were uneducated and naïve. And if we ran, we wouldn’t even know where to go and how to do it. It was easy to keep us, forget about us, and dehumanize us all at the same time.

The information was dizzying, and even worse was the fact that Jane had tutored me most of the evening on various topics in order to fit in, and there was already something else I didn’t know. I would get caught.

Jane bit her lip as if she could sense my thoughts. “Just,” she sighed, “be yourself.”

“That might be the worst advice I’ve ever heard.” It left me before I realized I said it.

She giggled like a child, and I realized half of the room watched us. From the smiles following hers, I knew they loved her—admired her enough to mimic her even—but the remaining stares were cold and hard, and on me. I was taking up too much attention. I wanted to shrink away, hide in the shadows like I’d been taught, but Jane whispered in my ear, “Outshine.”

She’d spoken with Adelio.

I thought of his dead family, of Jane’s missing daughter, and of all the kids in the flocks I loved. I even thought of the kids in the blood camp who probably never saw love. I remembered Charlotte and her russet stare, and for a moment, I swore I saw her eyes again. And then, I realized it was Alec, dusty hair and light brown eyes to match.

“How is your night going?” he asked Jane before kissing her on the cheek.

“Well,” she said, but her tone held a question mark.

“I’m working on Vespasien,” he mumbled to her, only to look at me. “His family invented the technology to—”

“Lift the Highlands on a massive scale,” I answered, relived to know I remembered something. His name was actually where Vendona derived from, and apparently, he was on Logan’s side. He wasn’t even against bad bloods. He was against the repercussions of what giving bad bloods’ rights would be, mainly taking down the gate. To my surprise, it was much more than a gate; it was a mechanism that helped uphold the Highlands. The amount of money it would cost to change it didn’t land in his company’s favor.

My eyes searched the room for the man—the head of the party who wanted to kill everyone I loved rather than spend a few dollars—but I found nothing.

“He already left,” Jane said, but her words barely reached me. I found someone else.

Her lilac, floor-length gown caught my attention first, but it was her sharp features I remembered, the way her taut skin shimmered in the light. She looked as if she was incapable of smiling, of speaking even, but I knew better.

“Who is that?” I asked.

Alec glanced over his shoulder, and I wondered if they’d put pads under his suit to make him look bigger, stronger, like the veteran he was. “Marion Lachance.” I had heard that name before. “Her family owns most of the oil on the coast. Funds nearly all of Logan’s campaign.”

“Her sister is also married to Vespasien’s son,” Jane added.

Marion Lachance, the sister-in-law of Vespasian junior, and she was now looking at us. She even smiled as she began to walk over.

My throat ached. “She hates bad bloods?”

In my peripheral vision, Jane nodded. “Very much.”

“Why?”

Marion took two more steps.

“Stephanie—” Jane started, using my name to warn me. She could hear my nerves in my tone, but she didn’t know why.

I turned to face Jane. “I need to know.”

Jane looked over my shoulder, as if counting how many more steps Marion had before she was close enough to hear us. “A bad blood group took her daughter as a hostage,” Jane muttered quickly. “Never returned her. They say it might have been the Eastern Flock.”

Even the Highlands knew of the mystery flock that disappeared overnight. But they had the dates off. The Eastern Flock disappeared years before Marion’s daughter was allegedly kidnapped; they also didn’t know she wasn’t missing at all.

“Her daughter was killed,” Jane finished, fixing a smile on her face for Marion.

“No,” I whispered. “She wasn’t.”

Ami. Ameline Marion Lachance. I had never realized her middle name was her mother’s first name.

Jane eyed me, unsure of what to say, but her beaming smile stayed as she spoke to Marion, “How are you, Mari?”

A nickname. Jane Henderson had a nickname for Marion Lachance, bad blood hater and worst liar in history.

I inhaled a deep breath before turning to face the woman. Her sharp eyes focused on Jane. “Janey.” I was starting to think the nickname wasn’t a nickname at all, but a condescending, proverbial jab.

“Marion.” Her name left my lips, and the woman’s cold eyes slid over me. They were darker now, emptier than what I recalled. I expected the black irises to light up when she recognized me, to howl out, to expose what happened that fateful day at the Southern Flock home, but the wicked mother clucked her tongue as she sized me up. She didn’t recognize me at all.

“Stephanie,” she said my name slowly. “How very nice to see you again. It’s been…what…”

“Nine years,” I finished, retaining the dates Jane forced upon me.

“Yes,” Marion agreed. “You were only nine then. Now, you’re a woman.”

“Eighteen,” I confirmed, feeling strange that the real Stephanie Henderson was technically a year older than me, feeling worse that Ami was nine when she was left at our doorstep five years ago. I wanted to slap the woman. “It’s tough to leave home at nine years old.”

“I can’t imagine.” Marion’s too-thin brows twitched, turning back to Jane. “I saw Alec speaking with Don.”

“Yes, Mr. Vespasien,” Jane filled in the blank spaces. “They had a great chat.”

Marion scoffed. “You don’t actually believe he’d let up the gate, do you? It’s been there for generations. The Separation Movement allowed our city to stand where we are. Abolishing it risks placing us back down at sea-level.” She took a sip of champagne and batted her eyelashes, too long to be real. “Who’s to say what would happen? The Highlands could fall straight into the ocean.”

Jane didn’t budge. “The levees have kept us dry for much longer than the lift.”

They bantered back and forth, with me standing in the middle, wondering if they’d ever talk about bad bloods, which they didn’t. Not once. It was almost like the election was about more than us. And with sickening realization, I realized it was. Bad bloods hardly hit the radar with the councilmen. Money was the real concern.

“Surely, Vespasien can afford to invent something new,” Jane probed.

“Perhaps,” Marion agreed to disagree, but her eyes traveled to me. “What are your thoughts on the matter?”

A test.

“Stephanie remains neutral on all accounts,” Jane said at the same time I said, “I hardly see what the gate has to do with the laws surrounding the Separation Movement.”

Jane squeaked. Marion flashed all her teeth. “My, you have been gone a long time,” she said, tilting her head. “Didn’t your mother tell you? The Separation Movement wasn’t for bad bloods. It was for all the poor people, hence the gate.” Everything I knew was a lie. Everything. “Bad bloods were just good to pin it on, especially after that girl.” The one who killed the religious congregation. “Almost too good.”

“That’s a matter of opinion, Mari,” Jane said, sharp, but Marion continued her taunting.

“It’s their own fault they’re in the situation they’re in,” she said. “We didn’t force them to turn on each other. That was their own doing, and it speaks volumes.”

“Yes. It does,” Jane agreed. “It speaks of the three decades of desperation we put them in.”

“Hmm.” Marion shrugged casually, almost to shrug off the conversation, before smiling at me. “I would love to hear about your travels to South Africa.” A worse test than the first.

“Oh, I think we’ve had enough for the evening—” Jane started, but I touched her elbow.

“I feel fine.” I hoped Jane saw the glint in my eyes. I wanted to talk to Marion; I needed to talk to Marion. Alone. “Why don’t you go ahead, and I’ll follow you later?”

Jane paled, but she recovered with a forced giggle that rushed the blood back to her cheeks. “Oh, to be young with energy,” she said to no one in particular, but Marion gave her a tight-lipped smile. Jane collected herself, nodded at me, and left. When she strode out of earshot, my plan began.

“Your dress is quite…quaint,” Marion said, lifting her glass of champagne to her lips again. Her dark purple lipstick left a mark on the rim. “Where did you get it?”

“It’s a Carré,” I said with no hint of hesitation.

Her eyes laughed. “Though you must be sweltering in it.”

She wasn’t wrong. I was practically covered head to toe. The long sleeves were tight, and the floor-length gown went sleek and straight to the ground. It even had a crystal collar. Jane said we needed to keep the mystery, make people wonder if I truly was the girl from the blood camp, if I had scars on my skin to prove it—something I would’ve had if it weren’t for Daniel. They would’ve been disappointed to see my arms were bare.

I let my eyes wander over her leg; a lace-inset draped across it, drawing out purple flowers across her skin. “Are those lilacs?”

Marion straightened. “In honor of my daughter.”

Ami. The lilac perfume she always bought. I had always assumed it was something from the Highlands everyone had, but maybe it was a commodity she loved, something everyone remembered her by. How this woman could vote for Logan and wear clothes dedicated to Ami, the daughter she ditched, was unfathomable. How I was going to conjure my words was even worse.

“I’m sorry to hear about your daughter.”

“Oh, yes.” Marion touched her chest, right where the sash protruded out to drape over her shoulder. “Ameline was a good girl.”

“Is.”

“What?”

I sucked in a breath, unsure of where to go from here. I could follow the script or I could be myself. I could pretend to be Stephanie or I could actually be Serena. Either one was a risk. As Stephanie, I would lose myself. As Serena, I would lose my life. One option was far better than the other.

“She’s alive,” I said, glaring at her continued façade. “She goes by Ami now, has long blonde hair. Continues to put it up in braids too. She’s one of the kindest people I know.”

Marion wasn’t breathing.

“She still buys lilac perfume too.”

Marion’s hand landed on the wall to keep herself standing, but her attention forgot one thing. Her glass. She dropped her champagne, and it shattered across the floor.

Everyone’s eyes were on us, necks craning, whispers echoing.

“Okay. Well, then.” I stepped away from the vile woman. “You have a nice night.”

With that, I turned on my flats and walked away. In fact, I marched away, and my beating heart correlated with my stomping feet. I heard nothing, saw nothing, and felt nothing until I burst out of the golden room and into the hallway. Breath filled me like it would be my last, and I fell into laughter like a mad woman.

I chose to be Serena. I was going to lose everything. Marion would tell the world, and I would attempt to run, and they would finally catch me again, and I would die. But at least I would die as Serena. At least I tried.

I peeled off my shoes, preparing to sprint away, when a hand latched onto my arm. “Stephanie.” Her voice dug into my skin with her nails.

Jane’s eyes made me apologize immediately. I had let the one woman in my life down.

“My dear,” she whispered, drawing me close. “Why are you apologizing?”

“I—”

Mr. Henderson flew out of the same doors I came out of, a grin plastered to his face when he found us. I shrank away, but he wrapped his arms around us both. When he pulled away, his massive hands stayed on my arms.

“What did you do?” His voice was wild with excitement. “What did you say? I must know.”

“What’s going on?” Jane asked, her eyes lighting up and squinting at the same time, as if she couldn’t decide if she should be excited or worried.

For once, I bet we felt the same.

“Marion,” Alec said her name like she deserved praise. “She changed her stance. Her vote is with us, and she’s swaying others as we speak right now.” He leaned toward his wife. “She might even sway Vespasien. It’s too late for money, but imagine if he spoke. Imagine if—”

“I told her.”

My words silenced the Hendersons completely.

“Told her what?” Alec asked, his brow furrowing, but Jane stepped back. She had heard me earlier, and now she heard me again. I obeyed her orders directly. My voice was heard again. And again.

“Marion’s daughter,” I explained. “Her name is Ami.” The story tumbled out—how Marion found us, how she, herself, brought Ami to us, how Ami helped raise all the younger kids, how Marion denied it all.

Alec went upright with fury, his hair sticking up like his anger channeled itself out through his leftover strands. “This world.” He cursed to himself, but his eyes softened on me. “Bless you.”

When he stalked back to the room, my temptation to follow him was overwhelming, but ebbed away when Jane threaded her arm through mine. “We should go back to the house.”

“I did something wrong, didn’t I?”

“On the contrary,”—she winked—“a surprise attack would’ve been my method too.” I cocked my head to the side, curious, so Jane put it blatantly, “You started a war early.”

Robert was gone, Serena was gone, and the conjoined flock of twenty-four was down to twenty-two. How many more we lost was up to me.

“We should run.” Floyd’s idea.

“We should split up on the streets.” Niki’s.

“Are you two crazy?” Catelyn. “You might be fine on the streets, but the kids won’t be. That’s why flocks were created in the first place.”

“And how many flocks have survived?” Niki again. “Half?”

“Then go ahead and take your chances.” Adam. Loud Adam. “No one’s keeping you here.”

The same argument over and over again. As the leader, I should’ve been next to them, diligent and debating, standing up for what I believed was best for the greater good, but I rendered myself useless. I hid in my room with Blake.

Blake. He hadn’t opened his eyes all morning, and I yearned to see his baby blue irises; his smile, even if it were a weak one, would brighten my day, but he slept, little wheezing snores escaping his chapped lips with every breath.

He was getting worse.

“We’re staying here, and that’s final.” Adam’s tone mimicked Cal’s, serious and direct, and once again, I was reminded why I was chosen to be a leader above him.

“You taught me to accept what I was,” Adam had said. “That’s how I control it. You. And others will need you too.”

Now he knew I couldn’t control a thing at all.

I shook my head as if I could shake out all the memories, and crossed the room to find paper and a pencil. Once it was sharpened, I wrote what I needed to write. When it was signed and folded, I wrote Adam’s name on it.

Knocking warned me before my bedroom door opened. Her red eyes appeared before I saw the rest of her—her dark dreads and equally dark complexion—but her smile was warm. Something I wouldn’t have guessed considering Serena’s stories.

“Niki.”

“Can I come in?” she asked, even though she didn’t wait for my answer. She stepped inside my room and shut the door behind her.

We were draped in shadows, but sunlight beat against the black blanket I used as a curtain. Through the dim illumination, I could see where she stood and how she stared at the note in my hand. Right when I thought she’d ask me what I was doing, she did the last thing I expected. Her eyes landed on Blake. “I know.”

I hadn’t heard much about Niki from Serena, but it was enough to know how much disdain Serena had for her, and the way Niki had stalked me a few weeks ago left a sour taste in my mouth. Still, I sat down when she did, her back sliding down the wall until she was sitting on the floor. She clearly had something to say.

“I know,” she repeated, but I didn’t press her to continue, and her lips moved side to side like a pendulum, waiting. “I know why Robert and you don’t get along.”

My chest ached.

“He told me. Five years ago,” she clarified. “When Serena was sick.”

I clutched my note to Adam harder, but my free hand found Blake’s hair. His forehead was clammy, but he whimpered—almost whispered—as if he could hear us. I wondered if he could hear my thoughts when I wrote my note. I wondered if he could see why Niki was here, why she couldn’t stop staring at Blake with desolate eyes.

“I lost my—” she stopped, only shaking her head once, and her hair rattled; the kids had tied bells onto her dreads. “I helped Robert look for you because I knew why.” The night at Old Man Gregory’s. “I understood why.” She had lost someone. We all had. A friend. A sibling. A parent. But hers wasn’t in death. It was someone still alive, someone who simply didn’t want her anymore. That way was much, much worse. “All Robert wanted to do was tell you to stay away from her. That’s it.”

“Guess that didn’t work out,” I deadpanned.

“You get it, don’t you? Why I can’t stand to look at her?” Niki’s red eyes flashed. “He loves her more than his entire flock, and she—” Niki. She had lost Robert. “She better live through this.”

It wasn’t what I was expecting to hear. Not at all.

“I hope we all do,” I said, focusing on what had to be done. I handed over the note for Adam. “Give it to him.”

Her upper lip curled. “You do it,” she said, leaving the room and slamming the door behind her.

Blake jolted up, shoving his teddy bear in front of his chest like a shield, and cried out. “No! No. No. No—”

“Blake.” I laid my hand on his shoulder, and his delirious blue eyes found me. They were streaked with heavy tears, and sweat fell off his brow.

“What?”

“It’s okay,” I said, hyperaware of how quiet my voice became after witnessing his feverish actions. “You’re okay.”

His eyes moved over my face. His five-year-old eyes. “I saw—”

“I know.” And I did. I knew exactly what he saw. I had felt him pushing against my mind the second Niki entered the room. He saw what I had always imagined to be the end of the person I had lost—my younger brother—and everything that had happened instead.

I wrapped my arms around Blake and dragged him into my lap. He was shaking—or I was shaking—but only I was silent.

“You can’t leave,” he said, folding his fingers around my hand, the one that held Adam’s letter.

“I won’t,” I promised, burying my nose against his blond head.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, kiddo.” We had two days. Two days until the election speeches. Two days until we would know how much hate the world had for us. Two, measly days.

He pushed against my chest. “Can you tell me a story?”

I nodded and shifted away so he could lie back down. “What do you want to hear?” I asked as I adjusted his teddy bear and blankets.

His eyes closed. “Something new.”

“Something new?” I couldn’t fight my smile as I searched an endless stream of stories only to land on one. “It starts like this.” I breathed my heart into stabilizing. “A girl was running in a dark alleyway, seeing by the light of the moon, when she ran into a boy. They hated each other at first, even tried to avoid one another, but the world had other things in mind. He told her about her soul, and she told him about her dreams and stories. And everything began to unravel from there.” Serena’s face was all I saw then. “The most important one began on the full moon, a time when mysterious things happen and wishes come true.”

Blake’s right eye popped open. “Is it a full moon now?”

I had thought he was asleep already, but his sly grin gave away how much energy he had. Maybe he was starting to feel better after all. “It will be in another month.”

“We can wish together right now.” He threw his arms up like he could fly, and I wondered if that was his wish, but then, he dropped his arms to his side and smiled. “I’ll wish for you, and you wish for me.”

“What do you want me to wish for?”

He beamed, as bright as a million stars. “Surprise me.”

And then he fell asleep, and I did too, disappearing into the hopeless thoughts of a thousand wishes for a moon that might never come.

“Daniel! Daniel, goddamn it, wake up!” He backhanded me as my eyes popped open. Adam. His face was red and his eyes were black—a burning fire much like Robert’s—and I shuddered away.

“What?” I rubbed my eyes as I tried to drag myself out of my sleep, but it took one more gesture to snap my attention into focus.

Adam shoved my letter against my chest.

I grabbed it, stared at it, and couldn’t move as all my memories flooded back. After I had fallen asleep next to Blake, a dream had jerked me awake, and in turn, I had awoken Blake. He was finally starting to feel better, so I told him I had to sleep downstairs so he could completely recover. I barely made it to the downstairs table before I passed out again. I hadn’t even realized I kept my note with me. The one with Adam’s name on it.

Now my words were right in front of my face, displayed by Adam who had read every last one.

Adam,

This flock was always meant for you. You stepped aside for a reason, and I lied by allowing you to make that decision without knowing the truth. Now that you know, you should be the leader. I also have to go after him. You must know that. I have to leave, and they need you. I’m sorry.

I love you all,

Daniel.

My gaze lifted from the note to meet Adam’s face, but when I opened my mouth, his glare silenced me. “Don’t make excuses. They’re pointless.”

Slowly, I stood up, and I dared to look around the living room. It was empty, as was the hallway and the staircase, and by the misty lighting, I knew it was morning. Early in the morning.

“We can discuss this quietly—”

Adam shook the note. “Did you mean this?” He was not discussing it quietly. “Were you actually going to leave? Were you even going to say goodbye?” His bushy eyebrows bent and met above his nose. “Oh, wait. That’s right. You only say that when you mean it,” he snarled. “Were you even planning on coming back?”

“Adam?” Maggie. She came up from the basement, her curly red hair piled on top of her head like she was resting. When she saw us, her eyes widened so that I could see the light brown streaks running through her irises. “What’s going on?”

I held my palm up. “It’s fine—”

Adam punched me. His fist collided with my jaw, and my jaw collided with the ground. Someone screamed, but all I felt was another punch. Adam was fast. Too fast. And it was impossible to comprehend it all.

“Adam! Stop!”

I managed to lift my right arm to block the rest of his hits, but he simply hit my arm instead. Blow after blow. Another scream. Another voice. My bone was cracking as much as my face was, and already, everything was snapping back together, healing itself under the pressure of my powers. If I could stop myself from healing, I would have. I deserved every hit. But that was the human side to me. My bad blood side was filling with another power—adrenaline—and I couldn’t hold back. I never could.

Adam punched me again, and I used his momentum to roll us over. We crashed into the stand by the stairs, and the snowflake lamp fell onto the photos and us. One picture frame shattered across the ground, and Blake’s face stared up at me. Robert must have left it there.

“You fool! You inconsiderate prick.” Adam was yelling, and I was focusing.

I did the only thing I could do to prevent Adam from killing me. I grabbed a piece of glass and stabbed his leg.

He didn’t scream. He didn’t even cry out. His anger was beyond him, and it took another stab with an additional piece of glass for him to remember his mortality. When he cried out, someone dragged him off me.

“Stop.” A woman’s voice. “You stop it right now, and you calm down.” Only a moment passed before I recognized the voice as Michele’s. “I said calm down!” Michele screamed. She never screamed, but she’d done it twice now.

I blinked, but only saw blackness, and realized blood was in my eyes. I wiped it away, and more bones scratched and popped as they pieced back together. How many times had Adam hit me? More times than a human could have in that time. But Adam was a bad blood, and he moved at unfathomable speeds. He used his powers to hurt me. The same powers I had taught him how to use.

I pushed my elbows beneath me to sit up. That’s when I saw Floyd. Out of all people, he was the one who muscled Adam off me. Near us, Maggie was shuffling all the kids back into the basement. Niki and Steven were helping her. Only Adam, Michele, Floyd, and I stayed in the room. Mine wasn’t the only blood on the floor.

I spit more out. “Is he okay?”

Everyone turned to stare at me. Niki’s bottom lip hung open, and I imagined what they saw because it was what I felt. My jawbone fused into place, and my shoulder popped. My skin stretched, burning where I had sliced myself open on the fallen glass, but my cut was closing; Adam’s wasn’t. He was bleeding everywhere. I hit his femoral artery.

I dragged myself to my feet and made my way over to his side. Floyd almost stopped me, but one look from me made him decide against it. I doubted any of them had seen me heal the way I was now, and out of all of them, Adam wasn’t looking. He stared at the ceiling like it held the stars.

“Don’t even bother.”

I sat down. “Don’t give me that.” I grabbed the glass, yanked it out, and ignored his whimper as I laid my hand on his leg. Blood stopped spewing out of his injury, and his skin began to sew itself into place, agonizingly slow. I did have my limits. My powers would put more attention into my own cuts before his, and dividing it up only hurt us both. My ribs began to ache. When I was done, I laid my back against the couch in the living room. Adam stayed sprawled out on the floor, in a puddle of his own blood.

Michele cursed. “I guess I’ll go get something to clean this up with.”

Maggie grabbed her. “I’ll clean it.”

The redhead felt responsible for Adam. That much was clear. Letting her go, Michele gestured to Floyd who left without a question. Everyone anticipated her lecture, even Adam and me, but she crossed the room, knelt near the table where I had been sleeping, and picked up the letter. Her eyes skimmed it, and I held my breath. When she turned around, I half-expected her to give Adam permission to continue beating me.

“What,” she paused, “is this?”

Adam exhaled a half-laugh, but his eyes never left the ceiling.

“I—” I had to contemplate my words. “I was being selfish.” There was no other way to say it. “I was going to leave.”

Michele’s eyes moved over the words again, as if she couldn’t comprehend my confession or the physical proof of my crime. “Because of Robert?”

I swallowed. “I’m—” I nodded, even though it was more than that. Much more. “I’ve been a leader my entire life,” I choked out. “I—I just can’t do it anymore. We’re falling apart. The flock—”

“Who cares if we fall apart, Daniel?” Adam asked.

I didn’t have a response.

“Who cares?” He turned his face to look at me, and tears brimmed his eyes. “At least we’ll be together. Like we have been for eleven years. Eleven years.” He broke eye contact to sit up and grab his knees. His legs were healed now, but his pants were ruined, sliced, stained, and wet. “Without this flock, I would be worthless. Without the people in this flock, I’d be empty. Without the people who started this flock, I’d be dead.”

“You still have them,” I said, not understanding his words since I was leaving them to him, but his eyes sliced through me.

“Not without you.” His words were worse. “You know what Calhoun told us when we started this. War makes animals of men, and we can’t let that happen to us. If we do, we won’t have any chance of survival.”

I couldn’t help my smirk. “You’re the one who attacked me.”

“I’m just reminding you of what will happen if you leave.” His smirk faltered. “Don’t let Vendona tear us apart. Don’t let Vendona destroy you too.”

I looked down at my hands, the ones I had stabbed my best friend with, the same ones I had held Serena’s hand with, the ones I had stroked Blake’s hair with, the ones that couldn’t save one person.

“Don’t count your faults more than your strengths,” Michele said, making her presence known.

I faced her, plagued by the white-haired girl who saved me from my worst fall. “Who taught you that?”

She smiled. “You did.”

“That’s why you’re the leader,” Adam concluded. “That’s why we need you. That’s why I need you.” He took a moment to spit blood out of his mouth. “You also throw a good punch.”

I half-laughed. “You taught me that.”

“And I have more to teach you.” Between his words, I heard what he meant to say. I had to stay. This was my place, right where I belonged, and my past fears had forced me to forget my present reasoning.

I sucked in a breath and apologized. Everyone nodded in acceptance aside from Maggie. “Apologize by cleaning,” she said, tossing a mop at Adam first. “This blood won’t come out on its own, and I want it clean for tomorrow.”

I reached for the tattered scrubber. “Tomorrow?”

Everyone was quiet, and I had to look up to read the faces of my flock to remember. Of course. The election. The final speeches were tomorrow.

“It’s going to be a big day,” Adam said, as if he could read my expression and know what I was thinking. He even patted my shoulder as if we hadn’t just tried to kill one another. He began to mop like we spilt jam instead of blood and spoke about what Michele had planned rather than what the world had planned. A giant feast instead of a speech. “At least there will be food.”

It was cold, too cold, and the coat I wore was almost too heavy to walk in. Still, I felt November in my bones. I shivered, for more than one reason.

Joshua Logan II stood right in front of me, and we were minutes away from the final election speeches. The Trident building—a tall, three-pronged silver structure—was nothing compared to Joshua Logan’s hair or bright smile. He shone.

“We didn’t see you on the greens yesterday,” Logan said, and oddly, his tone sounded like any other old man I had met. I wished he had sounded like a demon instead. “It was a good game. A fair game. They’ve even managed to keep everything in tip-top shape during this spiteful weather.”

“Ah. Sounds like I missed out on a good time.” Alec spoke like they were friends, and it took me a minute to realize—in fact—they were friends.

“It’s a political friendship,” Jane whispered as we stood idly by, pretending we didn’t matter at all, acting as if I hadn’t influenced one of Logan’s financiers. I cringed at the fact.

“Friendship should never be political.”

“My dear,” Jane squeezed my hand, and the silk gloves I wore pressed against my calloused hands, reminding me of how much I didn’t belong and how much I needed to belong at the same time. “Everything is political.”

“Stephanie.” Mr. Henderson said my name like a command, and I concentrated on every step I took in heels as if my life—and the lives of dozens of bad bloods—depended on it. I even forced a smile as I approached the man I was tempted to kill, right here, right now, but Alec had already explained that it wasn’t as simple as killing Logan. They could always find another face.

Logan was not my enemy. Vendona was.

I nodded to Alec and then to Logan and then to his wife, a tight-lipped pompous woman who didn’t seem capable of speaking, but she was the first to say anything at all. “How was your home these past few years?” Her voice was smooth, like the silk I wore, but I blinked at her question.

“Ah, yes,” Joshua Logan II agreed, smiling as if I missed a joke. “Your courageous endeavor is humbling.”

I did not understand a word he said. Jane’s expression told me it wasn’t good.

I stood my ground. “I—”

“It must have been awful, living in such conditions,” Mrs. Logan interrupted me, and my entire façade came crashing down. They weren’t talking about my fake story about South Africa at all. They were talking about me—about Serena—the girl who escaped a blood camp.

“Now, Joshua,” Alec interrupted them like interruption was a game for the wise and rich. “We can be gracious about this, or we can be honest, but we cannot be both.” He smiled, but it was less of a smile and more flashing of teeth.

Logan returned the gesture, and although Logan’s smile was whiter in most places, his canines were speckled with yellow. “I’ve always preferred kindness.”

“I didn’t know you had that in you.” The words left me before I thought them, and both Logans blinked at me, startled, as if they had forgotten I could speak. I flashed my own teeth to remind them that I could do much more than that, and if the lighting were better, I would have sworn I saw Joshua Logan II pale.

“I’ll go first,” he decided, facing Henderson with whatever pride he could muster, which, to my dismay, was a significant amount. His silver hair shined beneath the lights, and loud applause erupted through a curtain I was told not to peek out of. We’d be ushered out any moment. The speeches were coming.

“As you wish,” Alec agreed, nodding once more, and then, the curtains were moving, and we were moving, and Jane’s hand was on my wrist where Daniel’s bracelet was, and I wondered if they’d be watching me tonight as I took my seat on Henderson’s side for all of Vendona to see.

I thought of them and hoped my memories would help me outshine a city I had spent my entire life attempting to hide in the shadows of.

***

Joshua Logan II’s speech lasted fourteen minutes, fifty-nine seconds, and fifty-eight milliseconds. At least, that’s what the giant timer said on the pearl-white wall. He was one millisecond short of going over the fifteen-minute mark. And he was damn proud of himself. His beam said it all, and the crowd applauded him for it. I even forced myself to clap, small little claps, something Jane had told me was necessary, and I hoped my flock wouldn’t hate me for it.

Logan’s speech was nothing new, nothing exciting, just rambles about crime rates, poverty percentages, and diseases that came out of the outskirts. The murder statistics even surprised me, but I tried not to let it show. Dozens—if not hundreds—of bad bloods had killed their own families. But I wondered how many wouldn’t have done it if they hadn’t been forced to. That, however, wasn’t a stat. To end his speech, he cited the first bad blood, the little girl who murdered an entire congregation of people who worshiped her. He concluded that was all bad bloods would do. If we worshiped them again, we’d kill again. It was up to Vendona to prevent more death. We were an uncontrollable disease. And by that, I suppose, they justified their own killings. No one mentioned the money parts.

Jane leaned across me to whisper to Alec. “They fixed the clock.”

He nodded, his jaw locking into place.

I had missed something I wished I hadn’t.

Logan already had an advantage.

“Keep your eye on yours.” Jane fanned a smile as if she had told him something encouraging instead of the truth.

It was his turn now, and he took one second to kiss her on the cheek. When he also kissed me, on the forehead, I didn’t know what to do in return. Smile? Frown? Stay neutral? Was anyone even looking at me? How was I supposed to matter in any of this?

“Dear,” Jane’s voice, as quiet as the November breeze, met my ears. “Be yourself.” It was her mantra.

I nodded, tearing my eyes off Alec to survey the room. The crowd stole my breath away every time. The amount of people was unfathomable; little faces, round bodies, big hair, ruffled clothes, and independence everywhere. No one looked like the person next to them. No one tried to blend in. No one tried to hide themselves in the shadows like I had been taught. One hundred stories of people went above me, and I couldn’t find myself in a single one of them.

This time, I let the color drain out of my face. I let my hands shake. I allowed myself to touch Daniel’s bracelet and to think of Melody’s laugh and Robert’s hugs and Steven’s lectures. And I pretended I saw them instead.

“This photo has never been seen by the public before.” Alec’s voice rose over the crowd, and every face turned up toward a fall-out ceiling panel. As I faced it, the picture appeared, solid and familiar. Daniel’s photograph. The one that sat on his desk. The one with all the kids on it. I had avoided looking at it for too long.

“Every citizen of Vendona is aware of the story, of the tale we try not to tell, of the truth we hide from ourselves.” My eyes moved over every child, every face and body. They, like me, looked nothing like the crowd Alec spoke to. “I want you to choose one child and look at them, look at them in the eyes as if they were right in front of you.” I picked a boy with blond and brown curls. “What do you think their eye color is?”

Chills went up my spine. The kids weren’t close enough to see their eye color, but a color came to mind anyway. Green. Like Daniel’s. Because of this, I pictured Daniel instead. Henderson’s mind trick must have worked on others as well, because a few gasps went through the crowd—just not enough gasps.

“Now look at all of them,” Alec said, and I obeyed. I skimmed over the kids in the front, the ones right next to the boy I chose, and the older girl standing next to him. Her long, brown hair was as straight and flat as she was tall, but she held the biggest smile. It was the two on the right that caught my attention the most. The black-haired girl with the rainbow-haired one. I knew them. I knew this.

“This photo was taken one week before the Western Flock was ambushed and killed.”

Alec’s words almost made me fall out of my chair. Jane even gripped me, as if she knew I would faint at any minute. Knowing it was one thing, but hearing it was another. Having it confirmed as a fact was more painful than smiling at Logan.

The Western Flock—all fifteen of them—looked like normal, happy kids. Well-fed kids. Kids capable of smiling. Nothing like the kids of the Northern and Southern Flock. Actual, honest-to-goodness children who enjoyed grinning for a photograph.

But these kids. These faces. As young as five, as old as twenty, died. All of them.

Alec pressed a button, and the photo zoomed up on the tall brunette girl I noticed before. “As far as the records go, this is Abigail Litman, the leader of the Western Flock. She was nineteen.”

Someone threw trash on the stage, and Alec’s speech halted as a stagehand ran out, grabbed the can, and vanished backstage. My eyes followed the noisy crowd as one police officer handled the disgruntled man, and time was added to Henderson’s clock. Even then, something about the crowd wasn’t right. Something I kept searching for.

“Abigail was also the eldest of the children,” Henderson added as I continued to search. “The youngest was four.”

When another person booed, the same officer dragged them out, and during the commotion, I recognized what was missing. Cops. There weren’t as many in the Trident on election speech day as there were on any given day in the outskirts. Only a handful was visible, and most of them looked focused on the speech instead of the people.

“Some of you may have children in this age range. Some of you might be planning on having children. After all,” he paused, waving toward the photo and catching my attention once more, “these children had parents, as everyone does, and now, they are dead.”

He gripped the podium and leaned forward. “Is this the society you want our future generations to live in? A society that teaches our young people to hate what they do not understand? Because that’s the message we are giving; that’s the world we are building. A world where we kill children who are different than others.”

“They’re monsters!” someone screamed.

A glare escaped me, right at the crowd, and a pair of widened eyes met mine. I didn’t know who they were or if they had been the ones to shout, but the crowd silenced as if I had glared at them all.

“Monsters,” Alec Henderson repeated the word, and I turned back to him, his eyes on me. “Monsters are the ones who torture and kill the innocent.” His stare traced the crowd. “And even if my own daughter was born as a monster, I would love her and try to teach her how not to be one.”

He wiped the sweat from his brow. “Either way, one should love their children, shouldn’t they? After all, children are only duplicates of your own genes. What did these children ever ask for? They wanted love, family, and support. But we kicked them out onto the streets like animals just because we, as adults, were scared of a situation we weren’t used to.”

My eyes went back up to the photo.

“These children are our future. We were children once. All of us were. Bad bloods are an evolution. They are a mutation, not a disease, and we will all have these special abilities one day. Are we going to kill all of our children then? Are we going to kill our future? Because that is what we are heading toward. A dead future.”

“There’s no proof of that!” A voice from the crowd. I hadn’t heard a single shout during Logan’s speech, and every shout during Henderson’s speech caused Jane to hold my hand harder. I didn’t even know shouting during a speech was legal. A part of me wondered if it wasn’t, but the police that were present weren’t stopping it. Where the other officers were, I had no idea. I imagined it was a protest.

“You’re right.” Alec’s voice soared over the crowd. “There’s no scientific evidence that we will all be the same one day, but there is other evidence out there.” He pressed a button, and the photo went from Abigail to the blond and brown curls of the boy I picked. “This is Nicholas. He had teeth like razors, but his abilities could’ve saved our dental healthcare system. His own teeth might have frightened many, but he could heal anyone else’s to perfection.” He clicked the remote, and the photo flipped to a little girl with pigtails and thick glasses. “Emery could work with bees, a vital aspect of our world’s agriculture needs.” He clicked once more, to a young boy with blond hair like Blake’s. “And Luke. The youngest member of the Western Flock. A human boy that shouldn’t have been on the streets at all.”

Human. Four years old. His front teeth were missing, but his grin was huge. And he had a name. Luke.

Not a single shout came out. Through Alec’s clip-on microphone, everyone heard him press the remote again. The photo zoomed out only a little and revealed the two boys on either side of him.

The two others were brunet, but their resemblance was unsettling. The boy on the left even had the same grin, but the eldest—the one with the smallest smile—was looking at the other two with a love one could only wish to have in their lives. All three of them had dimples on their right cheek.

I thought I was going to puke.

“They’re brothers,” Alec said, “and just because the older two were bad bloods, the youngest one met a dire fate.” My world spun as I waited for the next sentence. “The only other difference between Luke and his older brothers is life.” The Trident building creaked, as if every soul had leaned closer to hear. “Those two lived.”

“No one lived!” a crowd member shouted, but this time, the crowd policed her.

Henderson didn’t even blink. “Please, do not think these boys escaped easily,” he continued as my vision began to blur. “Luke was shot in the chest, and his brother was shot in the shoulder while trying to save him.”

It couldn’t be. It just couldn’t.

The photo zoomed up on the brother with the same, giant smile as Luke. Now no one had to guess the color of his eyes. They were emerald green. “This boy—like the others I mentioned earlier—had abilities every doctor wishes they had,” he said. “He can heal.”

My heart stopped.

“So when Luke was shot, his brother tried to save him—only to be shot himself.” The scar. I could see it. “This boy did not have the ability to save both of them, and Luke could not be saved.” The photo flickered out to show all three of them again. The eldest one. His brown hair and eyes to match. I knew those eyes so well. “Survival took over, and the oldest brother was forced to run, leaving the younger two to die.

“Luke succumbed to his injuries seconds after, only four years old. A human and an innocent child.” As Henderson continued, I squeezed my eyes shut. I didn’t care who saw me or who saw the photo. I couldn’t see either anymore. “But the middle child survived and went on to live his life, knowing what had happened to his younger brother and to his older brother and to everyone in that house.”

He inhaled a breath, and I pried open my eyes, only to meet Alec’s stare. “This is the true story of the leaders of the Northern and Southern Flock.”

Robert. Daniel. They were brothers. They were brothers in the Western Flock.

Every story—every conversation—I had with either one of them crashed into me like the bullets that killed so many. Daniel had said both of his brothers were dead, and Robert had never spoken about his family. But I remembered the red glue, the blood on him the night we met, that night twelve years ago while it snowed.

That was the night the Western Flock was ambushed. That was the night my officer father had sobbed at the table. That was the night I heard gunshots from the front porch and saw Robert running toward me, covered in blood.

Was it Luke’s blood? Daniel’s?

I held back my vomit as I recalled how Robert told Daniel about the night we met. Did Daniel know? Had they figured it out?

Of course they had.

The way Daniel saw my parents’ street, the way he paled when I told him Robert was like a brother to me, the way I had forced them to meet again.

I could barely see or hear past my thoughts until Jane tapped the back of my hand, hurriedly over and over, almost as if her goal was to cut my skin with her nails.

“Keep it together,” she whispered.

I sucked in a breath, but a whimper escaped me. Robert, Daniel, and Luke were brothers, and the reason they hated one another was the Western Flock ambush. I had tried to fix something I had no right to fix. I had no right to know any of them at all.

“The popular belief is that the Northern Flock and the Southern Flock are not worth saving when they’d kill one another without us present,” Alec continued, softly this time. “But the truth is they are not the ones filled with hate. They are the ones destroyed by our hatred, and it is our hatred that has separated these groups of young people.”

Henderson breathed deeply and stood tall, as if all the silent souls of Vendona had filled him with strength. “What better fuel for hatred than society? It is up to us to fuel our society with something stronger than hatred. Something as strong as time.”

He clicked his remote to reveal all the faces again. Abigail. Nicholas. The pigtailed girl. And the rainbow-haired girl next to the black-haired one. Montana and Ida. I knew their names too.

“We must lead society with love.”

Applause erupted through the hundred floors of the Trident building, and the walls and floors shook as much as my hands. I did not wait. I stood and ran. I ran as fast as I could, and I even allowed my heels to fall off as I did so. I ran and ran and ran, past the people, past the hallways, past the million rooms and dim lights. I was running again, and all I could see was the blood camp. The jail. Except this was shinier. And this place hummed with electricity.

I wasn’t in jail at all. I was in the execution room.

“Serena.”

My eyes pried open at the sound of her voice, and even though I expected to see Charlotte, I saw Jane. She stood in the doorway like she could block whatever else was out there, but I saw the cameras. I saw the people.

She stepped inside and shut the door behind her. All the sound died out.

I looked down at myself, only to realize I was sitting, holding my knees to my chest like a child would to a teddy bear, and my makeup was smeared against my dress. “How—” I took a breath. “How long have I been in here?”

My mind had gone blank.

“Only a few minutes,” she said slowly, approaching me like I was a person and not an animal. I expected her to do the opposite.

I stared at her. “Why didn’t you warn me?”

She finally stopped in her spot. “I couldn’t.” She paused. “My dear—”

“Don’t,” I said, pressing my forehead against the mess on my knees. “Don’t call me that.”

“Serena.”

I looked up at her, only taking a second to wipe whatever was on my face away. It must not have worked, because she pulled a towelette out of her purse for me to see. “May I?”

I didn’t nod, but she came over anyway and touched my chin with care. She began to clean the makeup away and even hummed for a moment. I wondered if Stephanie—wherever she was—spoke about her mother and songs the way I spoke about my mother and stories.

“No one ever told me,” I whispered.

Jane finished my left cheek. “I know.”

“Why—” I sucked in a breath. “Does no one trust me?”

“Oh, my.” Her shoulders fell. “Darling, when someone doesn’t love you properly, it’s rarely about you. It’s about them.” She forced a shaky smile. “I am sure you have secrets as well.”

Daniel couldn’t tell me and neither could Robert, for the same reasons I couldn’t tell them what I knew.

I lifted my wrist and stared at the dangling silver in front of me. “I forced them to see one another again. They’re together right now. Because of me,” I choked on my words. “If I had known—”

“You just love them both and want them to get along. You’re guilty of nothing.”

“Jane,” I whispered her name, and she silenced, ready to listen to me tell my secret for the first time. “I’m guilty of so much.”

It was dark by eight, but the Trident building was lit up, and a purple glare burned over all of Vendona. I allowed myself to linger outside while the newscasters built up to the speeches. Everyone else allowed me to be alone as well.

“Daniel.” Blake was by my side before I even realized he’d opened the door. I grabbed him, stood up, and swung him around. His giggles echoed, even after I set him down on his feet.

“Don’t tell Michele I did that.”

“I won’t,” he promised, letting a cough escape him.

I patted his head. “Aren’t you supposed to be in bed now?”

He rolled his blue eyes in a way that reminded me of Vi. He must have been mimicking her. “I’m going.”

“Good. I’ll follow you in.”

And I did. Blake opened the door even wider, using all of his weight to move it, and then he ran upstairs, only looking back to shoot me his famous grin. Then, he was off to bed.

“He seems to be feeling better,” Vi commented, slinking out of the shadows. It was the first time I’d seen her all day. Ever since Robert arrived and left, she’d been scarce.

“He is,” I agreed, giving her the once-over. “Where have you been?”

“I’ve been getting better too.” She smiled. An unusual sight at a more unusual time. The speeches would happen any moment, and then, the votes would come in. It would all be over soon.

I sucked in a breath and faced the rest of the flock, but no one paid me any mind. Their eyes—no matter how young they were—fixated on the single TV screen. Adam moved it into the living room that morning, and no one had left it since. Not even him. He was seated up front with Tessa in his lap, Briauna next to them. Even Michele and Ryne took a break from cooking to watch the speeches. Kally didn’t try to start a fight with him, and Peyton didn’t try to start something with her. Catelyn and Steven held hands, and Melody held onto toys Ron had shared with her. So many faces with so many backgrounds, all waiting for one speech. The cat was even present.

When the speech started, I focused on one person. Serena. I knew the story that would be told. Nothing would be new to me. But she was. Everything about her appeared new, down to her blonde hair now appearing golden in the Trident’s extreme lighting. She held herself, not like a bad blood, but like a person, and she blended with Jane flawlessly. The two held hands as Alec spoke.

The photo flickered from person to person, but to me, they were more than faces. Nicholas wasn’t just his teeth and his abilities. He was the boy who taught me to never say goodbye, a boy who lost his twin sister, a twin sister that didn’t even make the picture. Abigail had been a mother, teaching Robert and I how to help others control their powers. She even taught us how flocks came to be. Ida—with the rainbow hair—had been the one to find us. She found everyone. And Emery had loved Luke more than anyone, aside from me.

But there were so many more who didn’t get names during the speech, and I tried to remember them all as I searched their faces. Jewel could make anything glitter. Hence her name. She didn’t remember her real one. Hank and Taipa, the only two bad bloods I knew of who could only use their powers if they were together. Montana, the closest bad blood to a vampire I’d ever known—even above Vi—and Dessie, her girlfriend who happened to have the abilities to turn water into blood. She would’ve been great for blood transplants at the hospitals, and a part of me wished Alec Henderson had used Dessie instead of me when it came to comparing doctors with bad bloods.

The last three were the hardest to remember, but their names trickled in, like whispers you could barely hear. Keegan, Mabli, and Victor. I didn’t remember anything else about them, but I had seen Victor get killed. No one in Vendona would ever know that. Only Robert and I would, as we already did, and when Henderson explained why, the entire flock froze.

Brothers.

I couldn’t deny how Robert and I knew one another now. My only secret would never be a secret again, and strangely, I felt relieved. After all this time, no one had to press me for information ever again. It was simply understood.

The election speech ended, and Adam leaned over to turn the TV off. We were enveloped in silence, and only a few dared to turn around and meet my eyes.

“I guess it’s time for dinner,” Adam said, standing up and stretching. Unlike many of the others, he knew. As far I could guess, Maggie did too, but she was pale—as if Adam had spared a few details. Niki wasn’t bothered at all. But Catelyn and Steven were staring, reading all the older kids, and even some of the younger ones, as if they couldn’t believe we held secrets from one another.

“Brothers?” Catelyn was the one to ask first. “Robert’s your brother?”

“You were in the—” Before Steven could say the Western Flock, Catelyn hit him.

I shrugged at both of their questions. I didn’t particularly feel like explaining myself to eighteen bewildered people. Those that didn’t already know. In total, there were twenty-two of us now. And a million people in Vendona knew my story.

“Let’s discuss this over dinner,” Michele said, gesturing toward the kitchen like she had the ability to calm everyone down rather than freak everyone out with visions of the future. When everyone obeyed, I wondered if we had far more abilities than our powers.

“Thanks,” I muttered to her, and she winked, one of her eyes waning yellow. “More visions?”

“Nothing new,” she said, but her frown told me something else.

I glanced around, making sure Niki was nowhere near us with her bad blood ears. “Why didn’t you tell me there was more than one gunshot?”

Her eyes widened. “What—”

“When you yelled at Robert,” I clarified. “You said gunshots, not gunshot.”

Michele’s lips bent down. “I was referring to what happened to you back then.” Her cheeks burned. “He brought it up first, telling you about healing sick kids.”

The part Henderson hadn’t mentioned about my story. Luke had been ill. That was why I couldn’t heal him. Illness was my weakness. When someone was sick, it was harder—nearly impossible—to help that person, and I almost always got the illness myself. Illness would be the death of me. That was why I hadn’t tried to save Luke. In order to save myself, I had refused. Survival had taken over me, not Robert, but I understood why Henderson hadn’t been completely honest about everything. It was much less poetic. When my actions killed Luke, Robert still saved my life. Then, he left me to deal with it. I was lucky I survived past that.

“Will you tell them the rest?” she asked.

“After dinner.”

She nodded and followed the rest of the group into the kitchen. I used her white hair like a beacon, and I made my way down a line of food that should’ve lasted us weeks. Meats, cheeses, and even fruit lined the countertops. We were actually going to have sandwiches with all the ingredients sandwiches were supposed to have.

I grabbed a plate and loaded it up with everything healthy before handing it to one of the Southern Flock kids—Justan, I think—and found myself smiling as he handed his plate to Jake. One after the other, kids passed the plates and shared one another’s food. Some even giggled, but Melody laughed. I wondered if she was named after her laugh, a song among voices.

“All right, everyone,” Michele said and ushered the crowd again. “To the table.”

Everyone followed, and we managed to fit most of the group at the only table in the house. I took Robert’s old chair, and Adam took mine. Catelyn sat on my left, and Steven sat next to her, his back facing the large bay window. As expected, Maggie sat on Adam’s free side, with Ami between her and Floyd. Niki found her spot after him, and Michelle found herself opposite of me. The rest of the kids found themselves in the conjoined living room, shouting over the hallway to us at the table.

As I watched over the younger ones, Vi and Ryne moved around them, like two protective shadows, and Kally’s blonde bob could be found in the middle like a lighthouse in the mist of waves. Their names blended—Ron, Timmy, Tessa, Jake, Justan, Briauna, Melody, Peyton, and Huey—and I could remember every single one of them, even their powers.

This was my flock now.

I lifted my glass, and the room waited. “For Robert,” I said.

Eyebrows lifted before their glasses, but everyone repeated what I had said except Melody. She had her own toast. “For sissy too.”

Serena. Everyone had seen her during the speeches, but I tried not to dwell on how far away we were, how far away she was from everyone.

“For sissy.” Everyone repeated Melody’s nickname for Serena, and the room erupted into laughter before more and more toasts were called out.

“To the future.”

“To bad bloods.”

“To bloods”

“To just being human!”

When we were done calling out, we dug into our food as if we hadn’t eaten all week. It didn’t even take ten minutes for everyone to finish. But no one stood up to clean.

Knocking prevented that.

“Daniel.” Robert’s voice spoke through the door, and my stomach lurched to my throat. He’d come back after all.

“Robert’s here!” Huey exclaimed, jumping to his feet before Kally dragged him back to the ground. Her action made me realize what Huey and I hadn’t. Robert wasn’t one to knock.

I stood up, slowly, and glanced at Michele. She shook her head, clueless, so I searched Catelyn. She bit her lip. Steven met my eyes instead.

“He’s just as much one of us as he was a week ago,” I said, swallowing back my own emotions. I never thought I’d face him again, especially not so soon. “I’ll get it.”

“Daniel.” Michele’s voice. When I turned around, her eyes were yellow, but her mouth hung open as if she had been frozen, right when she was about to speak.

I stopped and waited for her to come to, but she didn’t move.

The knocking continued, and the doorknob even rattled. “Daniel.” Robert’s voice spoke through the door. “It’s me.”

“Niki.” I met her red eyes. “Watch over Michele. She can have fits sometimes.”

She nodded, and I crossed the room to the door, unlocking it before Michele started screaming, “Don’t! Daniel, don’t open the—”

It was too late.

There, standing right in front of me, was a group of people in riot gear, guns drawn, badges blazing. But it was the woman I saw first. A woman with orange skin and bug eyes, still speaking when our eyes met. “Daniel.”

She was a bad blood, working for the police, and she could mimic voices. She sounded like Robert when she said my name again.

The first gunshot went off.

A sharp pain seared my left shoulder, but I found the strength to slam the door shut and lock it. Two kids screamed and dove under the table as bullets ripped through the wood and into my back. The large window behind Steven and Catelyn shattered, and darkness fell over the room.

“Run!” I shouted, and the pain in my back worsened. The door pulsated against my spine, but I knew it was too late. The window was open now. “It’s an ambush. Run!” I screamed again before the door shattered into a million pieces. The first door of my first home I ever walked through shoved me to the floor.

My cheek hit the wood as I watched Catelyn grab something and sink through the floors to the basement. I rolled under what was left of the door as a black ball landed in the room, and blue smog spewed from it. I barely had time to cover my mouth before my eyes began to water. My nose began bleeding.

Poison. They wanted to take us out in one silent blow. They would only come in once the fog cleared. I’d seen it before. But there was something they’d forgotten—or perhaps never figured out—since the Western Flock’s ambush. The poison didn’t kill us. It only disoriented bad bloods.

Perhaps we weren’t so human after all.

My head spun as I scrambled to my feet and ignored the agony of my body reconstructing itself. A bullet fell out of me, but not before it tore open what had already healed to get out. I stumbled toward the living room clenching my teeth. In the smoky fog, I could see their shadows, all the kids who hadn’t moved yet, but it took a squint to see who was who.

“Run,” I said, trying not to alert the officers with my scream, but my throat burned as I pushed Peyton ahead of me. I had to shake Ron and drag Huey who fought me.

“What about you?”

“Just go!” I shoved him, and he stumbled to his knees before Kally grabbed him. So many of them hadn’t even moved yet. They weren’t used to the fog like I was. Or something was wrong. Maybe it was paralyzing them. Maybe the cops had learned. Maybe—

The ceiling exploded, or something exploded, and I closed my eyes as my whole world spun. I even blocked my face, unsure of what else to do, and my home turned into a suffocating cloud of dust and debris and bullets.

I barely held onto a thought as officers flooded in through both the window and the door. I tried to tackle one, but I missed, and he swung the butt of his gun at something. A crack shattered through the room as I realized what he hit. Jake’s head. The twelve-year-old hit the ground, and his black hair turned white from dust. I crawled to the ground and grabbed him by the collar before the plan ever occurred to me.

“Get them,” one officer yelled as a wall of bullets blasted against the far wall.

I dragged Jake away as if we stood a chance, slapping his cheek as we went, but it was futile. He wouldn’t wake up.

An officer found us in the darkness immediately. “The leader.” If I could see his face behind his mask, I imagined he’d be smiling. “What’s it like to have your brother leave you again?”

Robert. He hadn’t told. He wouldn’t have. Not even if they tortured him.

“How do you think we knew his voice?” the officer continued, raising his gun to point at my face. I doubt I could heal from that. “I hear bad bloods don’t have souls.” He was enjoying his moment. “What’s it like to die without one?”

“You tell me,” I said, grasping onto the last object in the world I ever thought would help me. The snowflake lamp. As soon as I had it, I swung it, and it collided with the officer’s helmet. It knocked him off guard, just long enough for me to hit him again. And again. And again until I couldn’t anymore.

Another officer was there before I realized it. Her gun was in my face and then out of my face. Adam replaced her, dropping the dead officer to the ground, and his eyes, black like Calhoun’s, searched mine. “You okay?”

I nodded, and he grabbed me. “Hold on. I’ll get you out of here—”

“You can’t carry me,” I growled, tearing my arm out of his grasp. We both knew he was weak from yesterday. Despite healing his injury, his blood count was still low. “Get the kids,” I said. “That’s an order.”

For the first time in his entire life, Adam hesitated to listen to me, but when he nodded, he was gone, trailing up dust and debris where he ran, only as fast as a normal human could run. He was hurt.

Someone screamed as I sank back to the ground and searched my memory for the voice. Was that one of my kids or one of Robert’s or an officer? How did I sound when I screamed?

My heart pounded too loudly in my ears to hear anything else, but I could see—only bits and pieces—and I stared at the darkness like it was the only familiar thing I knew. When an officer ran by, so close I could’ve touched him, I realized what was happening. The officers hadn’t cut our power. Vi had. The shadows lurched, stretched, and consumed each officer, one at a time. She defended what she could. With her abilities, I doubted their night vision did them any good.

The only light came from the blasts of the guns as they discharged, and I shuddered away, feeling through the darkness for Jake. When I found him, I pulled him into my lap and slapped his cheek again. “Wake up,” I pleaded for the preteen in the Southern Flock, the one who showed me his powers first, the one who could double himself. He wasn’t just one bad blood; he could be as many bad bloods his powers could manifest. “Come on,” I said, hitting him one more time, and his eyes fluttered open.

And stayed open.

Jake was gone.

I fought back vomit but lost. I had barely gotten away from Jake’s body before losing all control. And that was when someone kicked me in the face.

My world spun, but the officer must have thought my world had stopped moving completely, because he was kicking Jake, not even realizing his battle was done. My body healed faster than it ever did before. It took one breath for me to stand up and tackle the man.

“Leave. Him. Alone.” Every shout tore out of me as I removed the officer’s helmet and punched him in the face, allowing the back of his head to hit the floor, only to ricochet back up so I could punch him again.

It was over in a minute.

I wouldn’t let what happened to the Western Flock happen to this one. I couldn’t. Not again.

Additional gunshots echoed around me, and I stayed low as I crawled across the hallway toward the table. When I saw a knife, I grabbed it, and when I saw the dead officer, I stopped. His throat had a puncture wound, his fingers rigidly wrapped around his injury where he had failed to prevent himself from bleeding out. I glanced at the blade in my hand but didn’t see any blood.

Someone had killed him with a different knife, and I realized it was Steven.

His back was pressed against the table, and his head hung down as he stared at his hand, his fingers shaped into a knife with his own flesh. I grabbed his arm. “We have to go,” I said, starting to shake him only for my worst fear to come true.

Steven fell forward. The back of his head was missing. He was dead.

I didn’t throw up this time. I didn’t feel a thing. I didn’t have the life left for it.

My hands released Steven and found the ground again. This time, I kept moving. No vomit. No killing. No anything. Just survival. Just concentration. Just focus on finding someone who actually was alive, on someone I could save.

I found Ron next, curled up by the kitchen door. An officer stood in front of him, even picking up the boy as if to safely carry him away, but I threw the knife, only to have it clatter against the ground. Throwing knives always looked easier on television. In fact, the officer didn’t even notice me at first. When he turned toward the door, our eyes met.

I realized what was different about him. He didn’t wear a helmet. Young guy. Brown hair like Steven’s.

“I won’t—”

He didn’t get a chance to defend himself. Shadows curled around the officer’s feet, and he screamed as they were both dragged into Vi’s dark void. My nails curled against the ground, hoping Vi would at least recognize her own. I even waited for her to take me, but nothing came. I kept moving.

In the kitchen, a worse scene awaited me. Blood and bodies covered the floor, but I didn’t dare to look and see who it was. After all, everyone would’ve come this way. The back door was the quickest exit. It was probably that reason an officer was waiting, Justan in his hands, a gun pressed to Justan’s temple.

Justan was the calmest of us three.

“You,” the officer yelled at me, and his voice shook, as if he had the right to be afraid. “You stay right there.”

The officer never even knew what hit him. Hands snaked out of the nearest room—Floyd’s bedroom—and grasped onto either side of his face. The officer’s neck broke in a second, and the man crumbled to the ground. Justan never even flinched. Instead, he watched, his head cocked to the side.

I stumbled forward as Floyd appeared. “You okay?” we asked the younger boy at the same time.

“Jake’s dead,” he said, the light in his eyes vanishing.

I didn’t understand how he knew, but I did what I had to. I looked at Floyd. I asked him for help.

“I’ll get him outside,” he said, dragging Justan out the back door. It was in pieces, swinging on the hinges Kally had replaced less than a month ago. Cold wind twirled the wood around like a cloth kite, and I turned my back to the exit before I heard him.

“Daniel.” Adam latched onto my right shoulder. “It’s over.”

Gunshots rang out in the rest of house. From the hallway, additional smog rolled into the kitchen. An explosion rocked the foundation. A scream. A blink. Adam shook me.

“We have to go,” he said. “Now.”

Nodding, I obeyed, and Adam ran out the door as fast as his remaining powers could take him, which wasn’t that fast at all. I followed, stepping as slowly as my feet would take me, and I wondered how long it would take the world to pass me by.

“Help.”

My thoughts left me when I heard her voice. I even froze, only turning to see her dark eyes through a crack in the cabinet beneath the sink. A fallen chair and a familiar body had blocked the girl from getting out. In death, her scales had disappeared, but I recognized her all the same. Briauna. The newest member of the Southern Flock. She had blocked them from seeing the one in hiding, the one who was still alive.

I scrambled for both of them, even taking the time to check Briauna’s vitals, but she was gone. I moved her as quietly as I could, but I kept my eyes on the trapped girl. “Tessa. It’s me.” I shoved the chair to the side and opened the door, keeping my body in front of Briauna’s so she didn’t have to see, even though I bet she already had. Still, she almost smiled when she saw me, and I surveyed her injuries in a second.

Tessa’s arm was broken. Her hand crushed. The same hand that brought life to the dying. Her cheek was even bleeding, but none of it explained the amount of blood in her hair. When I reached for her, she began to cry.

“It’s okay,” I mumbled, picking her up as quickly as I could. “You’re okay,” I said and kept saying it as I ran out of the kitchen with the nine-year-old in my arms. I didn’t look back again.

My feet pounded against the gravel, weaving in and out of the tightly packed houses until I met slick grass. We stumbled onto the hill, and I continued to stumble my way up it. When I accidentally dropped Tessa, she let out a squeal, but I dragged her back to her feet, not caring which wrist was hurt. It wouldn’t matter if we were dead. We had to run. She didn’t cry again, not even when we reached the top and saw Adam and the others.

Floyd stood next to Justan, both relatively unharmed, but they were covered in soot. Adam’s nose was bleeding, and he had a boy thrown over his shoulder. Huey.

“Is he—?”

“Alive,” Adam confirmed. “For now.”

I leaned over to skim his injuries. His forehead was cracked open, his eyes swollen shut. I’d seen him with Kally last. Now she was nowhere in sight.

I started to turn around to search the darkness, but Adam stopped me with his free hand. “Don’t.”

This time, I didn’t listen. I looked and I saw. My home was burning to the ground, an orange glare against the purple one of the Highlands, a mixture of ash against cloudy starlight. My eyes burned with it. I told myself it was from the smoke and poison.

“Who else survived?” I asked, monotone.

“We need to get to Cal’s,” Adam said, half ignoring my question. Any survivors would meet us there. That had always been the plan. For now, it was just us: Adam, Floyd, Justan, Huey, Tessa, and me. A flock of twenty-four dwindled down to six. “We need to go now,” Adam emphasized as sirens filled the air. This ambush would officially be publicized.

I leaned down to pick up Tessa, but Floyd blocked me. “You can’t be serious,” he growled, jutting his finger toward the never-ending disaster. “You can’t leave everyone in there.”

“There’s no one left,” I said, but Floyd was already marching backward, down the hill and toward the house.

“I’ll show you,” he screamed. “I’ll show you I’m a better leader—”

“If you go, you’ll die,” I said, but he turned around and ran like my words didn’t matter.

I watched him, knowing it was probably the last time I’d see Floyd alive, and considered our numbers changed. We were down to five.

“Want me to stop him?” Adam asked.

“Could you do it without dying yourself?”

Adam didn’t respond, but Tessa did. “What about the others?”

I looked down at her blood-crusted braids. Little bells were attached to the ends, like Niki’s dreads, and I wondered how the girl with sensitive hearing hadn’t heard the officer’s approaching, how Michele hadn’t seen them in time, how none of us suspected anything. The election speeches. They had distracted us. They had blinded us. And the officers knew it.

How long had they planned this?

It had to be before Robert left, before Robert disappeared, before—

“Daniel.” Tessa jostled my blue-and-white jacket, her voice shaking as much as the clothes. “What about the others?”

“They’re waiting at Cal’s,” I said, hoping it was true, but my tone wasn’t convincing, even to me.

Tessa released her desperate grip only to wrap her arms around herself. She shivered, and her bells rang out with the gale. “What about Blake?”

A gunshot went off in the distance, and my bad blood ran through my veins as cold as the November wind. An icy wetness hit my cheek, and when I looked up at the sky, hundreds came pouring down.

For the first time in twelve years, snow was falling in Vendona.

“Stephanie! Stephanie, over here.”

Jane shouted my name, and I found her in a grove of sweet-smelling trees and rose bushes. Her blonde hair cascaded to her shoulders, and the little girl that passed me looked the same.

“Jane!” She even had a sweet voice, but everything about their embrace caused me to step back into the shade, into the shadows where I belonged. I was not Stephanie; I was Serena.

“Jane?” I tried to catch the woman’s attention, but the girl found me instead. Her blue eyes were muddy, like water in a lake, and her smile was unnaturally large for her face.

She pulled on Jane’s skirt. “Who’s that?”

Jane glanced up, but never discovered me. “Who?”

“That girl.”

“Jane,” I said, this time stepping out, but the woman laughed at Stephanie.

“You’re being silly,” she said, pulling a small orb out of her purse. “Look what I got you.”

Stephanie beamed, forgetting I existed. “For me?”

Jane nodded, leaned over, and twisted it. A hologram of her appeared, singing a light tune. Stephanie hummed it back. I’d heard it before. “Can I record something?”

Jane touched Stephanie’s blonde hair. “That’s what it’s for.”

“Thanks, Mom.” Stephanie leaned up, kissed her mother on the cheek, and ran toward me. I stumbled back, thinking she’d go through me—through this dream I was having and couldn’t escape—but Stephanie stopped right at my feet, a near replica of a younger me.

“It’s in my desk,” she said, somehow sounding different, strained and wavering. “It’s in the back.” Her eyes flicked past me. “Tell her, Michele. Tell her where it is.”

I spun around, and sure enough, Snow Angel was there—but she was young, as young as Stephanie, and I remembered how Daniel had met her as a child.

Michele smiled like she did now, small but warm, and her yellow eyes dissipated to gray as soon as she appeared. “Who are you?”

I stepped back. “What?”

“Stephanie.” Michele stood on her tiptoes and reached for my face. As she stretched, she grew up into her older self. “That’s why you looked so familiar this whole time.” There was blood on her face. “She found you too.” When she touched my cheek, I turned to ice, and she screamed.

***

I woke up, gasping for air, and panicked when my breath fogged out in front me. I clawed at myself, wondering if I had actually turned to ice, and hit the ground hard enough I knew I hadn’t. I hadn’t broken.

I was dreaming. It was just a dream.

My heart pounded in my chest as I stared up at the ceiling, one arm draped over my clammy forehead. A chilly wind blew over me, and I remembered Robert, how I had woken up to him on my first night home, how he drew me out of my nightmares with the cold.

Wait.

I sprung up, searching the room for the source of temperature, and found the open entrance to my room. The balcony doors swung in, creaking against the wind, and the dark curtains fluttered in the freezing gale. How they opened, I didn’t know. I kept them locked the entire time. But something else demanded my attention.

My hands and feet moved on their own. I grasped my blankets, yanked myself up, and ran out onto the ledge. When I saw I wasn’t imagining them, I grasped the railing to keep myself standing.

Snowflakes. Millions of them.

Across the town, thin white blankets began to build on the streets and buildings. Between each bright light was a glittering stream of silver, and I couldn’t tear my eyes away from them. It looked like a thousand stars had broken up over the sky and drifted down to be with us.

I leaned out one last time and caught a snowflake on my tongue. They tasted so good, so pure and so divine, like nothing I had ever tasted from the sky. The cold jolted me awake only to dissipate as fast it fell, warming up as if it never existed at all. It was unbelievable yet addicting.

It was snowing, and I could’ve watched it forever.

When a snowflake hit my cheek, I remembered Michele’s touch, and I brought my hand up to my own face as I turned around. There, in Stephanie’s room, was a single desk.

I accepted my insanity long ago, and I crossed the room to grab the furthest drawer. I had to yank it open, but nothing came out. Only pens and paper. I opened the next one to the photo and the bottom drawer to miscellaneous toys. I searched through them, but I didn’t see the ball.

My eyes landed on the middle drawer, the main one, and I took a breath before I pulled it open. Unlike the others, this one was large, deep and empty. It also didn’t make sense.

I stuck my hand in and felt around the back. When my fingers met it, the back panel popped. I couldn’t breathe as a ball rolled out, just like the one I had seen in my dream.

As I held it, wondering how it weighed so little, I studied the long line striking through the middle. I’d seen these toys in the main square before, and I knew exactly how they functioned. I grabbed either end and twisted.

It worked.

An image fluttered to life, a hologram broken up by static, and then, her face appeared. Stephanie stood in her room—our room—and she squinted as if she were looking for a camera. Her balcony was open behind her, just as it was now, and chills went up my spine, knowing this was recorded years ago.

“Mom.” Her voice was even the same one from my dream. “Dad.”

The recording screeched, and it must have in real life too, because Stephanie covered her ears and cringed. “Oh, shoot.” She tapped the machine, and it flickered on and off again.

This time, a boy stood behind her. A girl, too.

“—which is why Tom and Jasmine want to help me,” Stephanie continued speaking as if a part of her message had been cut off, lost in the void of technology. “You see”—even in the dark, Stephanie’s tears were visible, too bright to be human, almost shimmering like ice—“I’m one of them. I’m a…” She swallowed. “I can live in dreams. Manipulate them. Find people in them. And time is different there, and I…that’s how I found Tom, and—”

“We have to go.” It was Jasmine, the girl who couldn’t be much older than Stephanie herself.

Stephanie nodded, as if she expected this. “The Eastern Flock knows what they’re doing. We’re leaving Vendona,” she choked, “but you’ll see me again. In your dreams.” When she smiled, it didn’t reach her eyes. “I love you, Mom. Dad.”

The message ended with the image of Stephanie reaching toward the screen, but even more bizarre was the background. Tom, the silver-haired boy, was flying, his feet hovering above the ground. It explained how the three got in and out.

I wondered what Jasmine did before I realized I wasn’t thinking about her at all. The dream. What Stephanie said about her powers. Was my dream real?

My stomach twisted as I gripped the orb. What mattered didn’t revolve around me. Jane never knew what happened to her daughter, and now she could. The Eastern Flock. Did they actually escape?

I scrambled to my feet and rushed out of my room, catching the stairs just as the clock struck midnight. One day after the speeches, one day before the vote, and three days before the final count came in.

No matter what, the Hendersons had to know about their daughter.

“Jane!” I shouted, not even caring how late the hour was. She would want to wake up for this. But, to my surprise, they were already awake—fully dressed in coats and pants, their faces grim.

I stopped in the doorway leading to a hundred rooms I had never explored. Neither Jane nor Alec looked me in the eyes.

I came to a halt. “What happened?” If Alec’s speech had been too much—if we had already lost everything we wanted to win—I wasn’t sure what I’d do next. But it was so much worse than that. I knew it when Alec told me to sit down.

My hands shook so much I shoved them into my pockets, hiding the orb with my fear. “What happened?” My question was louder this time.

“Stephanie,” Alec started, kneeling next to me, but then he shook his head. “No. Serena.” This was bad, and I gripped the chair as he laid his hand on my shoulder. “This is going to be difficult to hear, but you must remain calm. It’ll be okay. You’re okay.”

I knew it then. I think everyone knows it. The moment before someone puts a tragedy in words, the truth has already formed in your mind, a moment the reality meets you before it gets a chance to be confirmed, and everything breaks before you’re fully broken.

“The flocks were attacked,” he said. “Everyone’s—”

Alec’s voice faded out beneath my screaming mind. Every face, every person, every moment on the street. Every handhold, hug, and tearful, cheek kiss. Every loss and gain. Every breath and death, even the ones we brought upon ourselves.

Ami smelled like lilacs, Melody wanted to be a flower, and Catelyn would cut hair forever. And Robert. And Daniel. Their faces were already melting away, dissipating like the snow, appearing and disappearing as fast as they fell.

“Serena.”

Jane’s face was a few inches away from mine, and the smell of baby powder filled my nose. “Some are still alive.”

“Some?” I croaked out. That meant some had died. But Jane nodded like her sentence was a good thing.

“They took one girl as a hostage.” One. “And there are rumors of escapees. More than a few.”

My vision blurred with tears, and I wiped furiously at my cheeks, only for my bracelet to catch my stare. Daniel. For a moment, I saw him, standing in the rain outside Cal’s, his green eyes peering through the darkness, right up at me, right as he smiled. He told me I’d be okay. I told him to be safe. We didn’t say goodbye. We never said goodbye. Not to anyone.

“The news.” I found the strength to stand. “I need to see the news.”

“It’s on Channel Four,” Alec confirmed without a single argument, and he directed me to the next room where a few workers watched the scene unfold on the big screen.

When I entered, everyone looked at me, but I saw past them. Daniel’s home. It was on fire. At least, what was left of it was on fire. Most of it was gone, and remnants of a front-porch entrance singed through the smoke. The front door was obsolete, as was the large bay window, and the second-story roof had caved in. Firefighters and officers walked in and out of the camera’s viewpoint as a newscaster rambled on and on about the red-light curfew, about reporting any suspicious activity to the police, but his voice was dull, dragging on as if he didn’t want to say a single word. The Highlands, I realized, didn’t have red lights, orange lights, or yellow lights at all. Only snowflakes, windy streets, and a gate to keep the outskirts out.

Flock Massacre scrolled at the bottom of the screen.

“They’re calling it a massacre, Serena,” Alec whispered the words, the only way I knew what it said, but I didn’t understand the connotation. “They didn’t call it an ambush this time.” His vernacular disappeared beneath distress. “The mass majority saw this as a crime—”

“Is that all this is to you?” I cried, almost screaming at him. “A political gain?”

The man silenced, but only for a moment. “No,” he said and sounded like he meant it. “I’m sorry. I truly am.”

My eyes flicked back to the screen. Jane grabbed my hand before I realized why. Michele. Her white hair was impossible to miss on the dark TV screen. She was sitting on the curb, hardly being watched, her eyes on the pavement as the camera moved past her. Had she seen the dream too?

I finally listened to the report.

“One blood was taken into custody.” Blood. They called her a blood. Not a bad blood. “She appears to be unharmed with hair as white as tonight’s snow.” The news mixed a massacre with the weather report. “We don’t know her name, or even if she has one, but she looks to be about sixteen.”

“Seventeen.”

Jane looked at me. “What?”

“Michele,” I told Jane her name. “She’s seventeen.”

And she was alive. The next part was even more unbelievable.

“If you believe this is your daughter, please contact the Northern Precincts Office at…”

I had to sit down again, and Jane joined me, never leaving my side, even though the leather couch could easily fit six. She never let go of my hand either.

“They called us bloods,” I repeated, finally understanding why Alec had focused on the words, the same word Daniel had always used. “They—” Daniel would’ve loved to see the day.

I shook my thoughts apart, trying to focus my mind where it needed to be, but Jane squeezed. “It’ll be okay, dear,” she whispered, and I believed her. “I’m sure more made it out…”

“What happens to Michele?” I asked, jerking my face up to meet Alec’s eyes. “Why the pre-sicks office? What is that?”

I couldn’t stand to see her put in a blood camp.

“Precincts,” he corrected, slowly. “They’re taking her to the Northern Precincts Office, not a jail cell,” he said. Apparently, right below the regional councils—ours being the Southern Council—each Cardinal Direction had a precincts office for management of security. “As far as my committee has been told, no one official permitted this act.”

My focus trailed over Alec for the first time since entering the room. He was dressed in a suit—all black—and Jane matched him. The only difference was a see-through blusher veil covering one of her eyes. The couple was dressed for a funeral.

“We’re going there now,” he confirmed, Alec’s lips bending down. “Her fate most likely depends on the election results, but I will fight for momentary federal protection from the Council of the States.” He never broke eye contact. “They won’t place her in an institution now. Not after this.” He waved toward the screen but didn’t look at it.

“Miss Serena.”

Our eyes moved over to one worker, a worker I had never seen before, and she held the hands of two others. How they knew my name…I actually knew. Everyone knew. “We’re praying for you.”

Praying. For me. For the girl damned to hell on earth since the day she was born. There was a time in my life I would’ve laughed at the sentiment, mocked it even, but now I could see it for what it was. Hope in a cruel world. Hope for all the souls I had taken to the Highlands—souls that might no longer exist—just like Daniel had foreseen. It didn’t matter if I believed in the hope or not. It was humanity’s hope, their belief in us that would allow us to live in the future. Without their acceptance and our faith in that acceptance, we would continue to die. Our blood would fill the streets. Again. And again. Our voices would never be heard.

“Please,” I choked out. “Pray for us all.”

We ran for hours. On a normal night, it took forty-five minutes to get to Cal’s, but this was not a normal night. The red lights surrounded us and so did the search parties. One second, we were pushed back, then pushed right, and then pushed left. They even pushed us too far, only minutes away from the south side, but we fought our way to the west, stopping every four feet to listen to the city that wanted to kill us. During our trek back, I stopped when I realized I couldn’t hear gunshots anymore.

“I don’t trust it,” Adam whispered, adjusting Huey on his back. At some point, the blond had woken up and crawled into a piggyback position. Now, he was unconscious again, drooling on Adam’s shoulder next to his blood. He needed medical attention. Now. I wouldn’t be able to heal anyone, not until my own strength returned. I had to be careful about even touching them. I would be worthless dead.

My eyes darted across the alleyway as I oriented myself in the most familiar places of them all. Shadow Alley. I leaned against the fence, partially to catch my breath, partially to buy time. Vi should’ve been with us. She should’ve been able to save us too, but the darkness was as still as the city.

Adam was right. I didn’t trust it either.

Justan flinched as a substance shot out of his wrist. I leapt forward, thinking someone had shot him with a spike of some sort, but quickly remembered it was his abilities. Mixed with bone and wood, Justan pulled the weapon out of his skin and grasped it, his knuckles white. The look in his eyes was much, much worse. Thirteen years old, this boy was prepping to kill.

“That isn’t necessary.” I started to stop him, but Justan ignored me, walking down the street as if I hadn’t said a word. I followed him, ready to grab him when he suddenly sprang forward and shot down the conjoining street.

I barely had time to turn the corner before I heard the struggle, the squeal, the slice. Justan wiped the bloodied spike off on his pants and then turned to face me, expressionless. “Got them.”

Two officers, too mauled to tell if they were women or men, lay on the ground, their magnolia flower badge catching the streetlight.

I reached out and pulled Justan to me, unsure how to react when he didn’t hug me back. “How’d you know?”

“Jake taught me everything.”

The boy, his friend, probably his best friend, had taken a part of Justan’s soul with him.

When he leaned back, I already knew what he was going to say, but it was still difficult to hear it. “There’s more,” he said it like a fact, not a possibility. “Let me go ahead of everyone, and—”

“Justan,” I said his name, half wondering if I had remembered wrong when he didn’t react, but I shoved the thought away. “You are not doing this. I will. Okay?”

“You need to carry Tessa,” he defied me. “She’s freezing.”

I glanced back and realized the nine-year-old was wearing shorts. Even from a distance, I saw her shiver.

“I can do this,” Justan said.

“No.” And that was my final word. I grabbed the boy, feeling the hot blood on his shirtsleeve as I dragged him back to Adam. “Watch him,” I said, explaining what happened, and going on to explain that I would finish the streets leading to Cal’s apartment. We were only two away. “If I’m not back in ten minutes—”

“I’ll see you in ten,” Adam said.

I nodded and turned my back to him. I heard Justan struggle, but Adam was too fast to let the boy escape and follow me. They disappeared as I focused on what I had to do. I found one by Old Man Gregory’s and another by the main square. The last one was two blocks over from Cal’s, and he was dead before I remembered where I was. Debary’s Lane.

My eyes found Serena’s parents’ home, but the lights were off, the curtains drawn—as expected from any Vendona citizen during a red light—though it wasn’t expected from them. Wasn’t her father a cop? Hadn’t she told me that?

I stepped back, surveying my last kill to see if I could see Serena in his face, but he was too young. Much too young. Maybe even as young as me.

My thoughts were pushed away as I crossed back down the streets to Shadow Alley. In five minutes, I was signaling for the others to come, and they did. Everyone was still alive, and my heart started to pound when I saw Calhoun’s door.

His lights were off too.

Adam knocked first, as quietly as he could muster, and when the door opened, a small whimper escaped his throat. Cal grabbed Huey from Adam’s shoulders and gestured for us all to come inside. No one said a word as we stumbled up the icy steps and into the dark apartment. The too dark apartment. Vi. She was here. She was alive.

“It’s on the news,” Cal mumbled, sounding as if he had vomited recently too. “Vi’s hurt,” he said to no one in particular. “But she came out of the shadows long enough to tell me she has Ron.”

Both of them were okay. Vi was simply healing herself.

Cal wrapped his only arm around his nephew, and Adam began mumbling incoherently. He started to cry.

I collapsed onto the couch by the wall and closed my eyes, trying to disappear by listening to Cal. He wanted Adam to calm down, to sob quieter, to hide even longer. Just a little bit longer.

My hands curled against my knees. “Did anyone come?”

The room stilled, so I opened my eyes to watch Adam wipe his tears away. Cal’s grim gaze told me everything I needed to know. Other than Vi and Ron, no one else had shown up yet. We were up to seven, but Cal added one more.

“They have Michele.”

“Have her?” Adam croaked. “What do you mean?”

“The captain of the Northern Precincts Office took her in. He’s denying involvement. That’s all I know,” he said.

“The cops were definitely there,” I said, but Cal shook his head like he didn’t know what to believe.

“Well, they’re protecting Michele,” he said. “I saw her on the news. She’s definitely alive.”

“For now,” Justan huffed.

I didn’t even have the energy to glare at him, and the kid already punished himself. As soon as the words left his mouth, he sank to the floor and stared at his hands. The blood. We all saw it, and it snapped us back into reality.

“Who’s hurt the worst?” Cal asked, and Adam directed him to Huey. While they started bandaging his head, I stood up and went to work on Tessa’s arm. Justan washed his hands.

Dirty, bloody, and pale, we must have looked like walking ghosts. Or zombies. Or other monsters that should have been in stories instead of bad bloods.

We bled the same as humans, but there was one difference.

We bled too much.

A gunshot rang out, and my eyes sprung open to darkness. Familiar, aching darkness. The smoke jolted my consciousness awake.

“Daniel.” I recognized his voice before I saw him. He shook me just as much as his whisper shook. “Daniel, wake up. We have to get Luke—”

He didn’t give me time to process what was happening. He dragged me out of the bed and yanked me toward the hallway. I stumbled after him, watching dust collect on his brown hair instead of what was around us. I didn’t look away, not even when we got to the stairs. The lamp gave the dream away.

Even though Robert was eight and I was six and this was supposed to be the Western Flock ambush—and we were supposed to be running for the basement where Luke was, where all the sick kids slept—we stopped running at the top of the stairs, and Robert stared at the snowflake lamp. We weren’t in the Western Flock’s house at all.

“In here,” I said, moving toward my room—the other room, the one in the Northern Flock’s house, the house we were in. The ambushes were blending together, but there was one essential difference in this dream I had figured out.

Robert followed me.

I burst through the door, and sure enough, Luke with his teddy bear laid in front of me, on my bed, on Blake’s bed, and as soon as I thought of his name, Luke turned into Blake. The only thing that remained the same was the bear, the lifeless stuffed animal.

“Blake—”

“Save him,” Robert screamed, shaking my shoulders as he spun me around. “Save him, Daniel. Save him. Get Blake—”

And it happened as it happened before. Over Robert’s shoulder, I saw the officer in the doorway lift a sawed-off shotgun. I pushed Robert away. The man pulled the trigger. The light blinded me, and the sound blew out my ears. I was on the ground, and my shoulder was in pieces.

But, this time, Blake hovered over me. “Why didn’t you tell me?” His voice was sweet—as soft as he had been, as innocent as I had allowed him to be. “Why didn’t you tell me about the Western Flock?”

Somehow he sounded older.

“Blake,” I choked out, the taste of blood filing my mouth. Last time, I had called out for Robert. “I love you.”

“Love you too, Dad,” he said, lying down next to me, in the same crevice Luke had died, and he placed his teddy bear on my chest. “It’ll make you feel better.”

And it did.

***

I didn’t jolt out of my sleep or awake in a fright. I simply opened my eyes, slowly, like I had a hundred times between the first and the second ambush. Air filled my lungs, not smoke, and I knew I wasn’t covered in blood—or holding Blake’s teddy bear.

It was just a dream. Another dream. But a dream I’d never had before.

Tears pushed against my eyes, and I draped my arm over them as I forced them back. I didn’t have time to cry. I didn’t have time at all. I had to see if any others had arrived during the night. I had to be a leader.

When I sat up, all my plans were ruined. Cal sat on the edge of my bed, and for a moment, I could picture the very first day I woke up—on the same bed, with a different injury—staring at the man who saved my life.

A noise escaped my throat, and Cal immediately turned to face me. “You’re awake.” His hand even landed near mine. It was then that I noticed the morning light pushing against the navy blue curtains.

“How long were you sitting here?”

“An hour or so,” Cal said. “You were dreamin’ again.”

“Blake—” Even though I was monotone, Cal tried to shush me, but I had to say it. I had to feel the words come out. “Blake died. Just like Luke died, and Michele…she told me not to open the door, and I did, and—” I inhaled. “I did it. I got him sick too. I got him sick just like Luke.”

“Daniel,” Cal stopped me, and I concentrated on his hand, now on my shoulder. “Just,” he sighed. “This isn’t your fault.”

And I didn’t believe him at all.

“Others lived.”

I stared at Cal, studied him, to make sure I wasn’t imagining his words, and he nodded to guarantee it. “Ami showed up with Peyton,” he said, turning grim quick. “Peyton didn’t make it through the night. Neither did Huey.” One alive, two dead.

I swallowed. “Who else?”

“Ryne made it.” The boy without a memory. “Told us that Kally didn’t. She went back for Timmy. Neither came out.” The only human among us was also dead. Kally, too. Fourteen years old. Timmy was nine.

“Steven’s gone,” I said. “Same with Jake, Briauna, and probably Floyd.”

“Justan told us.” Cal confirmed what I suspected. The entire time I had fought my way out of the house, Justan must have been there, close enough to see but too far away to help. “We don’t know what happened to Maggie or the others.”

Even though Cal spoke of the redhead, Adam’s face filled my mind first. “How’s Adam?”

“Resting.” His tone said so much more.

I searched Cal’s face for the words he was hiding. “What is it?”

His jaw popped. “Robert—”

“Is he dead?”

Cal shook his head. “We don’t know that, but….” When he faded off, I grabbed his only arm.

“What is it?” I pressed.

“The news. They’re saying Robert helped,” Cal repeated what the officer had said.

I shook my head. “There’s no way.” Robert could hate me, he could hate the world, but he couldn’t hate his flock. He couldn’t even hate mine. “He would never do that. They’re just trying to pin this on us, to make us look cruel before the final votes, to discount everything Henderson said in his speech—”

Cal squeezed my shoulder. “I know.” When his grip left me, he stood. “You should take a shower.”

It was only then that I remembered how yesterday went. We cleaned up Huey—now dead—and Tessa, still alive. I spoke to Justan, even found him a place to sleep upstairs, and then, I went to my own bed. I passed out without even pulling the cover over me. Dried blood stained the sheets.

When I moved to stand, my muscles ached. I could smell the night on my skin, the gunpowder, the sulfur smog, the betrayal of a city. My feet itched to cross my bedroom to the shower, but a stronger urge controlled me. “Can I see them first?”

Cal nodded.

I practically leapt for the doorway, and I walked down the hallway before Cal could change his mind. I was relieved to see he wasn’t lying. Adam was sleeping on the couch, Tessa tucked under his arm, and Ami sat on the ground in front of them, Ryne leaning against her. As I entered the room, almost smiling to see more of us, I lost all happiness when the two sheets on the table came into view. Huey and Peyton. Their bodies were still here.

“I’ll put them upstairs,” Cal muttered as he passed me, but I managed to jump in front of them.

“You can’t,” I gulped. “We can’t keep them here.”

Cal looked past me, but agreed. We both knew I was right, even though I didn’t want to be. “I’ll take care of it.”

We never spoke of it again.

I moved to Ami and Ryne, and they dragged their eyes away from Cal to meet mine. One Southern Flock kid and one Northern Flock kid were now just kids. No direction. No flocks. Just each other.

“I’m—” I’m glad to see you’re okay? I couldn’t say that. They weren’t okay. No one was. And I couldn’t be glad at all. I didn’t say a word.

Ami lurched up and yanked me into a hug. Ryne patted my leg like it was his equivalent. I forced myself not to wonder what either of them saw, but Kally’s relationship with Ryne had always been an unusual one. A girl with ice powers and a boy with fire. They butted heads but always helped one another out. Now, one was without the other, and Ryne’s fixed glare said his fire ran deep.

“Get some rest,” I said, looking more at him than Ami, but she nodded first. “And take care of Adam for me?” Ami nodded again, and I realized why she looked so strange, so different from before. Her braids had fallen out. With straight strands and chubby cheeks, she looked much younger now, like a regular fourteen-year-old.

I tore my eyes away from her and tried not to search the room, but it was too late. I didn’t see anyone else. Including me, our flock of twenty-four had dwindled down to nine, and Catelyn was nowhere to be found. Neither was Melody.

“I’m getting cleaned up,” I grumbled, disappearing down the hallway, heading back to my shower, all the while pretending it was possible to wash it all away, that I could be clean again.

I didn’t think a single thought as I turned on the water, got undressed, and stepped inside. The warmth didn’t even console me. I was numb, completely unfeeling, as the water rushed over my skin and took away all the dirt and blood. My eyes followed the colors as they swirled down the drain, and I wondered if the sight was one Serena had witnessed when I’d taken her in after the blood camp escape.

What would she think when she saw what happened to us? What did she think now? How could I ever face her again? How could I face anyone in my flock again?

I peeled open my eyes only to check my cuts that hadn’t healed the night before but found that they had since then. My powers had healed my outside injuries well—at least, for now.

I turned off the shower and ran my hands through my clean hair, no longer stuck together with miscellaneous fluids. My lungs even felt better, like the steam had cleaned out the smoke, and my legs no longer ached. I grabbed a towel and left the room, trying to fight any underserved happiness at the sight of my clean clothes. Cal always kept some for me, but it felt wrong to have them when everyone else had nothing. I even contemplated using my old ones, the ones from the night before, but I didn’t have the strength to force myself into it.

“That really is a terrible scar.”

Her voice made me stumble into my desk. A photo rattled until it landed facedown, but I didn’t dare look at it to see which one it was. Adam and I, Blake and I, or Calhoun and I. I was too busy for that. I was staring at Catelyn.

“What—how’d you get in here? You’re alive?” I couldn’t decide on a question.

Her blue eyes stayed on my shoulder. Her focus reminded me of how naked I was—in more ways than one—but I was relieved I had jeans on.

“How long have you been standing there?” I asked.

She didn’t even flinch. “Too long.”

“I should tell the others.” I moved for the door, but she said my name.

“Can we talk first?”

I turned and looked her over—really looked her over—and noticed the lack of blood, dirt, and grime that everyone else had. She wasn’t marked at all.

“I’ve been here for a day,” she said. “Came in with Ami.”

“But—”

“Melody,” she explained. “She kept me invisible, and I guess…she can also keep you silent, keep your voice invisible too.” Her mouth twitched. “Who knew the kid had more power?”

“Catelyn,” I stepped closer to her only to stop myself. I cleared my throat. “People are worried about you. Ami and Justan—”

“Steven,” she said his name, and the reminder of his death would’ve made me vomit if I had eaten anything at all. “You said he was…” She faded off, not quite sitting, not quite standing by the edge of my navy blue bed. When her eyes watered, her irises were just as blue. “I need him.”

I barely managed a breath. “I know.”

Her lip quivered. “And?”

“He’s gone.” She needed to hear it. She needed me to say it in the same way I needed to talk about Blake. “Steven’s gone.”

“But—”

“I saw him myself.”

This time, she did sit down, and her fingers dragged across my blanket—the stained one—and I wondered if she saw him in there, right in the mix, a stain on the darkened comforter.

“We were going to get married,” she said, “if bad bloods ever got rights.”

I listened.

“I was always surprised he even wanted that right,” she continued. “His stepdaddy’s the reason he ended up on the streets.” She smiled, actually smiled, and I knew she hadn’t lost him completely. “He was fourteen and so stupid.” A laugh even escaped her. “Serena found him. Did she ever tell you that?”

I shook my head.

“Well, she brought him home, and Robert was mad—that was his way of expressing concern—and Serena kept looking at me, like she wanted my help, but I ignored her. I ignored her because there was Steven, sitting there, bleeding on himself in a jacket that was way too small for him.” Another laugh, a mad laugh. “Serena gave him her jacket. It looked terrible, but he…he looked like freedom.”

“Catelyn—”

“I want you to hear this.” Her eyes burned with her smile. “I thought that love at first sight was something that was only in cheesy movies and romantic novels until that moment.”

Until the moment she saw Steven.

“You understand that, right?” Her cheeks flushed and all tears melted away. I nodded. “Did he say anything?”

She misunderstood me. I had seen him, but I hadn’t been there when he lost his life. I didn’t have the heart to tell her. The longing in her eyes was too much.

“He loves you very much, Catelyn,” I heard myself speaking as if I had no control over myself. “He said your name.”

Her lips twitched, almost as if she’d lost the ability to smile. Before I could say anything else, Catelyn stood up and crossed the room, heading straight past me for the door. When she paused at the exit, she turned into a shimmering hologram of herself, and I wondered if that was how her powers worked. A person who could turn into light.

“Thanks for telling me that,” she said.

Even she knew it was a lie.

My hand landed on my desk to keep myself standing, and my fingers grazed the photo I knocked over. By the other two that were standing, I knew which one was down. Blake.

I lifted the frame and dared to stare at his face, a face I would never see again, a laugh I’d never hear, a life that would never live beyond five.

“I’m so sorry.” I heard myself say it, but I didn’t realize it was me at first.

I hung my head, gripped the table, and wondered who it was for. Of course the apology was for Blake—for not saving him or Luke—but it was also for Steven and Catelyn, their love lost, and Adam too. Maggie was probably dead. So was Niki and the others. Michele would be too if we lost the election.

The election.

It didn’t even matter anymore. Too many loved ones were lost. Too much pain was surrounding me. Too many people had suffered, and all because I carelessly opened a door.

I stared at the photos again, of Cal and me when I was young and of Adam and me at the lake. The lake where Cal trained us. The lake where he gave us our first guns.

My heart leapt into my throat, and I leaned back, taking the drawer with me. The gun tumbled out and landed on the floor, right next to where I landed.

Of course the pistol was still there.

I’d thought Adam would have moved it all those weeks ago—when Serena first figured out we were the Northern Flock—but he must have put it back.

I grabbed the cold metal and brought it into my lap. Too many of the weapons had killed the people around me; too many times I had stared into the barrel and thought it was over.

Now it could be.

I didn’t have to wonder anymore.

After all I had been through, I didn’t deserve to wonder, to fear, to hope, or live. I had killed my younger brother. I had killed Blake. I had killed everyone who had ever been family to me. I’d even killed other’s families, like Steven for Catelyn, and Maggie for Adam, and—

I gripped the gun.

I couldn’t handle it anymore. I couldn’t live anymore.

I was done.

Darkness settled over Vendona’s streets, and I leaned over the balcony, listening for their dreams, wondering how Stephanie had entered them, wondering if it was how she escaped this dreadful city. But I didn’t allow my imagination to wander far for long.

I stepped backward, away from the lamplights and snow, and closed the balcony doors behind me. I was ready.

When I turned around, Adelio stood before me, as silent and dark as the night. We nodded at one another, and I grabbed the orb I found, only pausing for one second. A moment in time long enough to destroy any plan.

“Can you write a letter for me?” I asked him, the man from Vendona who pretended to be from somewhere very far away. It was the one thing we had in common—until recently. Now we could both say we lost our families to Vendona’s police.

Adelio answered by sitting at Stephanie’s desk and propping a pen over paper.

“Tell them I’m grateful for everything they fight for, for showing me how life can be lived, for—” I choked, “for showing me their love for their daughter.” I swallowed, gaining my composure, and Adelio’s hand never stopped moving. “But they should know Stephanie found me too.” Adelio twitched, even turning around to look back at me, but I gestured to the pen, and he turned back around. “She came to me in a dream, and that’s how I found her message.” I laid the orb on the desk, and Adelio glanced at it. “They need to watch it, and—” I found my hand on Adelio’s shoulder. “They need to know I’ll be watching them. I’ll be watching the final election results. But they don’t need to try to find me again, not even if he loses.” I paused. “Tell him…No. Tell them…Tell them they’ve already won. No matter what happens, they’ve won to me.”

The pencil squeaked, the loudest sound between our silence, until Adelio finished. He laid the writing utensil down and read it over, but he didn’t face me as he spoke. “You’re a good person, Serena.”

“Make sure they get this when I’m gone?”

He nodded. “You’re ready then?”

“I’ve been ready for days.”

***

We snuck out the underground garage, and for the first time since arriving, Adelio told me to sit up front in the passenger seat instead of in the back. He drove, racing down empty backstreets with the headlights dimmed. Even then, the snowflakes caught the beams and passed us like we were flying through the sky, a million stars away from where we were supposed to be.

Mr. and Mrs. Henderson would forgive me. They would have to.

I had to go back to my family, to my flock, to my home.

“I can’t get too close,” Adelio said, referring to the plan we concocted while the Hendersons were away, making speeches on cruelty and betrayal and sacrifice. I was going home and Adelio was taking me there. Out of everyone I met, I knew he was the one who understood the most. “You should know though,” he continued to speak, much to my surprise, “you don’t have to do this.”

“I do.”

“Whether you go to them or not won’t change the outcome of anything.”

“I know.”

“You cannot save them any more than you’ve already tried.”

“That’s why I’m returning.”

My job here was done.

Adelio nodded, an honest man, a hardworking man, a man I was sad I would never see again.

“Would you go back if you were me?” I asked, unable to take my eyes off the gate, the one that separated us from the outskirts. Even then, out of my peripherals, I saw him nod.

“Why do you think I am helping you?”

He’d already helped me so much more than I could comprehend. When the Hendersons left, he told all the workers to leave me alone. He sat with me. He continued to watch the news with me, turning it off when I couldn’t handle it and turning it back on when I calmed down. He explained terms that I didn’t understand—like political prisoner, what they were now calling Michele, and the debates of hate crimes and mandatory sentencing. Apparently, in many eyes, Michele was the one who committed a crime just by existing, but even then, they were fighting for her right to live, something very new to Vendona, and it had to do with Henderson’s appearance at the Northern Precinct’s Office, a place I wasn’t even aware of yesterday. Adelio explained why I was unaware. The name was misleading. It was in the north, but not in the outskirts. It lined the edge of the Highlands, right at the gate we were passing. The chaos was how I would escape.

As we drove closer to the building, flashing lights exploded from one end to the next, and I recognized the hundreds of cameras recording every second. Michele was in that building, as were the Hendersons, and I was leaving her behind to face her sentence. Most were predicting a sentence anyway, not an execution, and it would be based on the level of her abilities and how many years she hadn’t turned herself in, and she’d only be sentenced after the election was over. For now, she was still a political foothold, not a person, but that meant she could still be saved.

The debate was mind-boggling.

“What will happen?” I asked, and my breath fogged up the passenger window, blurring out the golden building.

“Alec will find a way,” Adelio said with conviction. “Michele will live through this.” How well she lived was another conversation.

“How many others do you think…” are alive? I couldn’t finish it.

“Miss Serena,” Adelio said my name clearer than anyone else had. “You must prepare yourself for the worst.”

I shook my head. My love for them wouldn’t allow me to picture the worst. “Every second of every day I still love them, and I won’t believe they are dead until I see it for myself.” It was why I had to go. It was why I had no choice.

Adelio came to a squeaky stop in the shadows, right outside the bright building. “Even if they are dead, you can still love them,” he said, unlocking the doors. “I still love my family.”

Adelio, the man who lost everything.

“The Hendersons still love their daughter too,” he remarked, shooting a shaky smile. “I’m sure they love you too—as you, not as their daughter.” He used my own words against me.

“They barely know me.”

“Love doesn’t always require you to know someone for long, especially during difficult times.”

I remembered Daniel’s declaration, only two weeks after I met him, and my fingers curled up to meet the bracelet he gave me only a few weeks before. It seemed so long ago, almost impossible, like a dream.

“Stay safe, Serena,” he said, eyeing the darkness, “and visit us again.”

All I could do was nod, and then I opened the door to vanish.

***

The hardest part was breaching security undetected. I didn’t touch the gate as I ran up and down the length of the structure, careful to stay in the shadows as I surveyed every cranny. I knew it could be done. The Highland kids made a game of it, after all, and I found a spot I was sure they used. Erosion—either from weather or from games—had dug out a sinkhole far beneath the metal. The other side was an army crawl away.

When I got through, I kept myself from running as fast—and as loudly—as I could. Instead, I breathed and jogged along the grass, letting my lungs adjust to the burn of the cold wind before I picked up the pace and darted through town.

The cops weren’t difficult to avoid. In fact, they were easier than usual, and I wondered if the ambush had them too scared to face us. One even saw me. I was sure of it. But he turned the other way and searched the sky where no one could be. I still didn’t allow myself to get too comfortable.

I stuck to the side streets, to the alleyways and shadowed lanes, to the tucked away storage spaces and water drains. I stopped at each intersection, listening for prowlers, and I found myself relieved when I didn’t run into a single one. I only hesitated when I saw Debary’s Lane. My father. My mother. Even my little sister.

I wondered if they were watching the news. I wondered if they wondered about me. And then I hid my wonders away.

I kept running, slowing down to a walk as I approached the street I came for. Cal’s apartment lights were turned off, just like everyone else’s, and red lights flickered on and off, rotating from brick to brick in the dead of night.

Out here in the outskirts, the snowflakes didn’t glitter; they reflected red like falling blood. Our city had made the sky bleed. I shuddered at the thought.

When I found myself at the top of the stairs, I sucked in a breath, not knowing what I would face, and I knocked.

The apartment was silent.

I knocked again, hoping, even praying, no one in the flocks would shoot me out of the fear the cops had found them again. I half-expected them to kill me when they opened the door, and I wasn’t completely wrong. Cal held a gun in his only hand. He almost dropped it when he saw me.

“Serena.”

At the sound of my name, another face appeared. A face that brought tears to my eyes.

“Serena.” Catelyn leapt up to wrap her arms around me, but Calhoun grabbed her collared sweater to hold her back. It looked too big to be hers.

“Inside,” he directed, and somehow, I managed to obey him, knowing I wouldn’t have such a reunion with everyone.

When Cal shut the door, my eyes adjusted to the dimly lit room. A single candle allowed me to survey the shadows enough to recognize a few people were sprawled about. One child raised her face from the couch to see who had come. The little girl was Tessa, if I remembered correctly. She was right next to Adam.

“How’d you get here?” Catelyn asked, her whisper boarding on a loud scream. She was about to lose control.

“I had to be here,” I said, unable to let her go. I kept my hand wrapped around hers. My sister. She was alive. “Where’s Melody?”

“She’s okay,” Catelyn confirmed, but her voice said something else. “Steven—” Her eyes welled up, and I pulled her into a hug, holding her as she started to sob.

Calhoun even patted her back, trying to shush her, reminding her that others needed to sleep so they could get better.

But they shouldn’t have had to heal on their own.

Daniel could heal people.

I found Cal’s eyes in the darkness, just as black and dim. “Who else is okay?”

His gaze flicked away, so I stared at Catelyn. She didn’t look at me either.

I tried to survey the room, the people covered in blankets, but Cal stopped me. “Why don’t you sit down?”

I had to hear the names. But, for the first time, I fought the idea of confirming death. I just wanted to run. “I’ll stand,” I decided instead.

Cal laid his single hand on my shoulder, rendering me small. “Serena,” he’d never said my name so quietly before, not when he met me, not when he threatened me, not when he took me home.

I shook my head. “Don’t say it.”

“Don’t say what?” A familiar voice entered the room before he did. When I turned to face him, his cheeks flushed as our eyes met. My gray ones, his green ones—too bright for a human.

“Daniel.”

He dropped the Diet Coke he was holding and rushed across the room. I was in his arms before I realized he was close enough to hold me, his lips pressed against my neck, his hair soft against my face. He smelled like soap and air, like an ocean breeze from Eastern—no, Southern—Vendona. I couldn’t wait to tell him everything I learned, but “You’re alive” is what left my lips first.

His hands found my face as he leaned back, and his green eyes moved over every part of me. I thought he’d say, “I didn’t think I’d see you again,” but instead, he said, “You shouldn’t be here.”

“I had to be here,” I choked out, reaching up to grab his wrists, remembering what Adelio had said about love during difficult times. I had never felt anything like it. “I had to see you. I had to see everyone. To see—” I could barely fathom the words. “Who made it?”

His soft smile turned into a hard frown, as if I reminded him of the dangers I volunteered myself for by returning. “You were safe with the Hendersons,” he said. “You should’ve stayed there.”

“I should’ve stayed here all along,” I argued, finally looking back at the room. It was still too dark to tell, to find each face among the small crowd. All I could see was the size of the group. Much too tiny for twenty-four members. Much too tiny for even twelve.

“Tell her,” Catelyn prompted, her eyes glistening in the light as she watched us.

Steven was dead. Steven was gone, and I was standing with Daniel. I reached out to her, my fingers skimming the scar on her cheek, and she smiled, holding my hand there for a moment.

“I have you,” she said.

I swallowed back my tears as Daniel dragged me away, down a familiar hallway to a familiar room to a familiar bed to sit on. We were surrounded by blue, so much blue I had almost forgotten the red flickering outside with the snow.

Daniel was quiet, waiting.

“Who died?” I asked, signaling I was as prepared as I was ever going to be.

He took one breath before he started listing them off. “Floyd, Niki, Maggie, and Steven.” He explained what he knew about each one, how Floyd had gone back, how Niki, my practical enemy, was missing along with the redhead Adam had saved years ago. Steven’s was the worst to hear, and the details he told me he couldn’t tell Catelyn. He explained how he lied to her and told her Steven had spoken beforehand, and I agreed to keep the lie. She needed it. “Peyton and Huey made it out but didn’t last long after.” The boy with a missing tooth, the girl who managed to cut Kally’s hair in her sleep. Daniel told me the stories too. “Briauna died protecting Tessa.” A new member of the Southern Flock had saved a Northern Flock girl. “I managed to get Tessa out after that, but she was the only one I got out.”

My mind raced. So many names had yet to be mentioned.

“Jake.” For the first time since meeting him, Daniel had to pause. His Adam’s apple bobbed, as if sobs were forming in his throat, but no tears came. Not a single one. “He died in my arms.”

I grabbed his hand, only to feel his fingers shake. “Is Justan alive?” I asked, knowing he was always at Jake’s side.

Daniel, to my surprise, nodded. “But Timmy is gone. So is Kally.” Both of their blond heads flickered in my mind. “Ryne saw it. He hardly has any memories as it is, and this is what he sees?” Daniel’s voice rose. “He’s only thirteen. Or, at least, I think he’s thirteen. But—”

“Daniel,” I stopped him from disappearing into his thoughts, from falling into a void no one came back from, but his eyes had dimmed. I was too late after all.

“Robert left before it happened.”

My heart squeezed. Robert and Daniel. They were brothers. I had almost forgotten the speech, and with a sickening realization, I knew that was the ambush’s goal.

“They’re saying he turned us in,” Daniel choked out. “He wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t.”

I couldn’t say a word. I didn’t even know how to speak. My Robert was also Daniel’s Robert. The guy I had thought was a brother to me was Daniel’s actual brother, and now the two were associated with two ambushes. No. One ambush and one massacre.

I told Daniel everything I knew.

He stared like he didn’t hear a thing, even the parts I thought he’d love. “Melody’s okay,” he said instead, still focused on the list.

Melody was like a daughter to me, too young to be on the streets, and there had only been a few nights we hadn’t slept in the same bed. I knew Daniel had someone like that too, and I recalled the little boy with baby blue eyes, too innocent of a stare for the ability he had, too small to hold both flowers and a teddy at the same time.

“Where’s Blake?” I asked.

That was it. Daniel lost it. He fell apart in my arms, and sobs rocked him as much as I did. His tears pressed against my sweater—the clothes I had come in—and my own tears fell too.

Eleven members were dead. Gone forever. Thirteen had survived. More than half. But it didn’t feel that way. Vendona had taken so much more than lives. Vendona had taken us too.

We couldn’t change anything, and in times of war, people become helpless and vulnerable. That was what we were. We didn’t stand a chance fighting our way out now. Our fates resided solely on the final election results. Three days. We had three days left ‘til then.

The next thing I knew, somebody was shaking me awake gently. I recognized Calhoun’s one-handed touch before I even opened my eyes. When I looked at him, he lifted his one hand to his lips, signaling me to be quiet. My heart leapt into my throat—thinking the officers had found us—until he gestured to Daniel.

I was in his bed. The fear had caused me to forget, but everything slowly seeped back into my veins. The deaths. The stories. The lack of hope. But, for once, Daniel looked at peace, completely silent and unmoving in his sleep. He wasn’t having nightmares tonight.

I slid out of the covers and followed Calhoun out of the room. We didn’t say a word until we reached the door across the hall. I had never been in the room—I hardly knew it was there—and I knew why the second Calhoun opened it. When I stepped inside, an original American flag met me. It was the size of the far wall, and the top corner—the one with all the stars—was partially burned.

“Adam got that for me.” Cal closed the door behind us and locked it. Clearly, this was going to be a private conversation. “I know he found it in the gangs. Stupid kid.” But his tone suggested he appreciated it. “There aren’t many of those left.”

“I don’t even know much about it.”

“That was the goal, wasn’t it?” Cal let out a breath, half-sigh, half-chuckle. “I don’t know much either, to be honest. I was nine when the country dissolved.”

“That makes you—”

“Fifty seven.” Almost a decade older than I thought he was. “But who’s counting?”

I stared at the flag, wondering how many people were, in fact, counting—keeping track of the years that passed since their country dissolved, since the Council of the States was created to help communications between the city-states, since bad bloods were discovered, since the Separation Movement, since the ambushes. So much had happened in less than one hundred years. So much we were fighting.

“How many are there?” I asked, finally facing the man.

He sat down on a leather chair behind his oak desk. He even placed his one hand on top, as if he would have threaded his fingers together if he had his other arm. “Some say a thousand.” A thousand cities like Vendona. “Some say ten thousand.”

“Why keep us in the dark? Why keep us from leaving? Why lie about the directions?”

He smiled. “You learned a lot from Alec, then.”

“Cal—”

He faced his palm toward me. “Serena, I don’t have those answers, but if I know anything”—he looked at the table—“the smaller the crowd, the easier to control.”

“Control?” I spat the word. “They’re letting the outskirts kill one another. The Highlands…they make a joke out of us. They have a game, coming in here. They don’t even have red lights. If I know anything, I know they’re not even scared of us. They just don’t want us around.”

“They are scared of you,” he said, his voice shaking, his fingertips turning white as they pressed against the wood. “Please.” His forehead pointed to the pearl-white chair in front of him. “Sit.”

I obeyed. He watched. I waited. He did nothing.

Then, right when I was about to break the silence, he leaned forward and pulled a TV out of the top part of his desk. I hadn’t seen anything like it, and I scooted back as he tilted it to face us both. Cal had more gizmos than I thought.

When he turned it on, four channels in their own boxes rambled on, drowning one another out as one spoke over the other. Cal leaned forward and touched one of the interviews, and his voice was the only one we could hear.

“A witness is saying double the amount of officers were killed than the bloods. One neighbor said he knew of the flock and never said a word. He said they were kind people. Hardworking people. Apparently, the leader, Daniel, even mowed his lawns in the summer. That neighbor describes Daniel as funny, intelligent, and all around friendly. It seems we aren’t dealing with monsters at all. But others say they were terrified to learn of the flock’s presence.”

A woman being interviewed appeared next, obviously recorded beforehand. “This is a good neighborhood, a quiet neighborhood. I let my kids run around and play. Nothing’s ever happened.” Her eyes flickered to the side, and the camera followed her. The burned house came into view, and my throat squeezed. They were pulling a body bag out of the house. “This—this is horrible. Unspeakable.”

“They could’ve arrested them.” Another interviewer, this time a man. “This wasn’t necessary.”

Protesters were shown. People from both sides. Police standing in between them and all around them. And then Alec and Jane. He was speaking, and she was nodding, but the reporter spoke above them.

“Their daughter, Stephanie Henderson, was absent this morning at the precinct’s office. Could it be true that she is the escapee from the blood camp? It’s difficult to say, but one thing is certain. If she is, she has sacrificed her safety to return to her own kind, and that is something we must acknowledge—”

Cal shut the TV off. I tried to find the words, but nothing came.

“You did good, Serena.”

I looked at him, still silent, but my bottom lip shook. Everything was too difficult to process.

“Coming back made you even more human,” he said.

“You said they were scared of us.” The words fell out. “That was—that was—”

“Positive.”

I could barely fathom the word.

“As positive as it could be,” he added, “and that’s a channel widely known for supporting Alec.” His lips bent down. “The other channels aren’t so kind.”

“Why not show me those?”

“You need to see the hope, the fight, the—”

“You said they were afraid,” I repeated, interrupting him again.

He sighed. “They are. They’re afraid of what will happen if there’s no change.”

I leaned back, soaking in the words. “So, they’ll give us rights out of the fear more of their own people will die.” More massacres. More death. More crimes and people on the streets and kids in their neighborhood that end up being someone they didn’t actually know.

Cal nodded. “Between Daniel’s neighbor and you, they’ve learned they are losing more than an enemy. They’re losing loved ones too.”

“It shouldn’t have taken us to learn that.” Hundreds of kids had been killed, after all. Dozens left on the streets, even more to the camps. They hadn’t appeared out of nowhere. They had families too.

Cal’s jaw tightened. “I know.”

“Then, why—”

“People need a reason to unite,” he explained, slowly this time. “People need something to point to, something everyone can point to, something everyone can feel involved in. While their stories won’t matter, yours does. Daniel’s does.” He leaned forward, close enough to see the red lines in his eyes. Crying. “Neither of you can die. Not anymore. Not ever. You have to stay alive. You have to live with this.”

I swallowed. “I don’t understand.” And it was true. I didn’t understand why he was telling me this—this obvious thing—but I did understand that this was the reason he called me in.

“After this,” he cleared his throat. “If we win, if you two win, you’ll be the faces of freedom. If you die…”

Freedom wouldn’t come.

“I understand.”

“Then make Daniel understand,” he said it so suddenly, I wasn’t sure if I heard him correctly.

“What do you mean?”

“He…” Cal’s voice cracked. “You know what he’s been through.”

One ambush was enough. He’d been in two, and I hadn’t even been in one. While my family was dying, I had been crying in a bathroom like my feelings mattered. I still couldn’t admit that to anyone.

I simply nodded.

Cal nodded too, like that would explain enough. “I’m afraid for him.” He stumbled over the word “afraid,” as if he’d never used the word before. “I fear—” he stopped. “Right before you arrived, Catelyn spoke with him.”

“About Steven,” I prompted him. “He told me.”

“Did he tell you what happened after?”

I shook my head.

“He tried to kill himself, Serena.”

My bad blood veins ran cold, as frigid as the snow outside, and I squeezed the chair’s armrests to keep myself seated. “What?” was all I managed.

Cal repeated it, as if he knew I couldn’t believe it. “The only reason he didn’t…” he faded, reaching up to scratch his temple. “Catelyn was attached to Melody the entire time. When Catelyn left, Melody was still in the room. She became visible right before he pulled the trigger.”

I searched my memory, trying to recall if a bullet hole had been in Daniel’s bedroom ceiling, but I hadn’t looked. I hadn’t even considered it.

“She saved his life, even if she is too young to realize it,” Cal said, his cheeks paler than when he started. “I thought I lost him.”

I leaned over to grab his hand. He stared at my touch, and his lips shook like he wanted to smile. “He’s been through so much, and to watch that boy suffer makes me wish this world wasn’t so cruel.” He took his eyes off our hands to look at me. “But he has to stay in this cruel world. He can’t leave it. It would only make things worse. It would destroy everything. And—and I can’t bring myself to ask him to stay.” Cal swallowed his tears back.

I couldn’t handle any more tears. I nodded, stood up, and walked to the door. Our conversation was over. Leaving Cal was all I could do to remain sane. The information was enough to drive me mad. But I kept myself numb. I had to. I didn’t have a choice either. I didn’t feel a thing until I opened the door.

Melody grinned up at me, clutching a struggling cat in her arms, the orange cat. Catelyn’s cat. “I found the kitten!”

A laugh escaped me. A real laugh. A laugh I couldn’t stop. And I fell to the floor, pulling Melody into my arms, and freeing the orange cat from her hold. I hugged her tight to me and buried my nose in her hair. I pushed all the tears back.

Her little nails clawed at my arms, and she squirmed against my chest. “Kitten cat—”

“Kitten cat is fine,” I said, smelling medicine on her. She must have helped one of the older kids treat someone. “Stay with me for a minute.”

“But I want to play with the cat,” she whined, still struggling, and I greedily hugged her harder. My four-year-old girl was in my arms, and all she wanted to do was leave them.

“Okay,” I whispered, finally letting her go, and she zoomed down the hallway, her brown braid trailing behind her.

I watched her until I couldn’t anymore, knowing she didn’t understand—or couldn’t fathom—what had happened, and I wished the others hadn’t understood either, even though they had to. Someone had to. If we didn’t suffer, Vendona couldn’t pity us, Vendona couldn’t see themselves in us, Vendona wouldn’t fight for us. We had to be martyrs, and that was what Calhoun needed me to understand.

If we won, Daniel and I would retell our stories, stand in the spotlight, advocate for our kind, give up any chance at normal lives, and we would suffer because of it, over and over again. We could never move on, never forget, never let go like regular people. It was probably the reason Daniel had almost ended it all. Our suffering would never end, but our suffering might let others, like Melody, live. And I had to make us both believe in that, even though we hadn’t won the election yet, even though we might not win at all.

When I woke up, it was still dark. I didn’t realize an entire day had passed until I found myself in the living room, staring at the hurt kids healing the kids who were hurt worse. But Vi’s appearance had me running to the couch.

She was lying against the pillows, half propped up, her eyebrow sliced. Her eye was swollen black, as inky as her hair. Still, she managed a cocky smirk when she saw me. “Told yah I could handle myself.” As the last word left her lips, she pushed the remaining air out of her lungs and groaned.

Adam pushed some ice into her hand and lifted it to her head. “Come on, kid,” he forced a teasing voice. “Don’t sass us now.”

Vi half-laughed and it turned into a fit of raging coughs. Blood even sputtered onto the ice pack. Adam held it instead. “No laughing, okay?” This time, his voice was soft.

I reached out, ready to heal her, but Adam stopped me. “You’re still too tired.” He knew better than anyone why I was sleeping so much. My abilities had limits. Healing her now would only hurt me more. It’d probably hurt us both. “She’ll be fine.”

I tried to meet her shadow-filled gaze, but her good eye was shut, and her breathing became shallow. She’d passed out.

“Give her this,” Catelyn cut in between the Shadow Alley celebrity and me, handing Adam a Diet Coke before facing me. “You, too.” She shoved a cold can in my hands, opening it for me when I didn’t budge. She repeated exactly what Adam said. Violet would live. Her injuries were nowhere near Huey’s or Peyton’s. On top of that, she had saved Ron. He was cleaning himself in the upstairs sink, and I heard the water turn off just as they explained it to me.

The small staircase squeaked as he made his way down, and he nodded at me as he stepped over Tessa’s long legs to sit next to Ryne. Justan was the one who held my gaze the longest.

“What are we going to do, Daniel?”

He sounded too old for a preteen. He looked too old too. In him, I saw lifelessness in a boy who was still alive. He wasn’t asking me what we were going to do to survive; he was calculating his next move. He was willing to kill again. But his question affected the young ones in a different way.

“Why do they hate us?” Tessa asked, her big brown eyes on Vi. “We didn’t do anything wrong.”

I saw something I could never forget. I saw lifetimes of acknowledgement, fear, wisdom, questioning, and understanding in a child’s eye. It was the worst thing I would ever witness. It flooded my brain with an overwhelming amount of tragedy. I thought of all the hardships and people I had lost in the past few days alone, but most of all, I thought of how I didn’t regret any of it.

I didn’t regret meeting them and living, but I didn’t regret what I had tried either.

“They hate us because we’re different,” I said, kneeling down to meet Tessa’s gaze, but she was lost on Vi. Ryne was the one watching me. “Until they feel what we feel, they will never fully understand the hell they caused.”

“So, we make them feel it,” Justan concluded.

I stared at the boy again, trying not to predict his tainted future. “No,” was all I could say.

His lips shut in a thin line, and I placed my hand on top of his head as I stood up. He almost ducked away from me, but for a moment, he hesitated. “We aren’t born evil; they teach us to be,” I said, trying to reach whatever dark pit he’d fallen into. “Don’t fall for it.”

“But we have to be that way to survive—”

“No,” I said. “You don’t have to be anything, okay?”

Justan didn’t nod.

When I opened my mouth to speak again, Adam laid a hand on my shoulder. “Why don’t you leave everything to me?” he asked, speaking quietly, as if we could have a private conversation among the suffering. “You should get more rest.”

“I’ve been resting all day.”

“I can handle it.”

I shrugged my friend off me, ready to confront him about why he was treating me like one of the injured children, but Serena was there, and all my ability to stand up for myself disappeared. She weakened my anger with a simple smile, even if it was a forced smile.

“Aspirin,” she said, handing it to me. I popped it in my mouth, and she grabbed my hand with the Diet Coke, lifting it to my lips. “Now drink.”

For a moment, I felt like a child as I listened to her every word. I even listened to her as she directed me upstairs, away from my bedroom, away from the kids, away from everything I had to lead. I didn’t even know how she knew about the rest of the upstairs, but we were in the single bedroom—the one Vi sometimes used—and we were alone.

She closed the door behind us to seal the deal. I wasn’t leaving. I wasn’t going to be around the flock at all.

“What’s going on?” I asked, half expecting her to turn on a light, but she didn’t. Maybe she really did want me to go back to sleep.

“What do you mean?”

I turned to face her, and I searched her gray eyes—so empty I could lose myself for hours searching for a soul. Holding her gaze was like holding my own gaze in the mirror, in the reflection of a lake, searching for myself in another person but seeing nothing—and I saw nothing because I was nothing.

I sat on the twin bed and put my head in my hands. “Cal told you then.”

She was quiet as she sat next to me. Her silence told me everything. He had told her about my attempt.

“You know you can’t.” Die. She didn’t have to say the word.

I cursed. “I know that, Serena,” I snapped at her, even though it wasn’t her fault. It was mine. It was always my fault.

As if she sensed my thoughts, she spoke, “It isn’t your fault,” she said. “You know that, right?”

I gripped my hair, unable to hold anything else, and stared at the floor. The logical part of me knew it, but the emotional part of me didn’t. I was driving myself mad. Of course it wasn’t my fault, but I was torn in two, and I was the only one in all of Vendona that had been through this twice. It felt as if destruction followed me, as if the boy who could heal only brought death. A sick, cruel joke placed on me by a universe I never asked to be in.

“It was a one-time thing,” I managed to get out.

“But—”

“Serena, please,” I said. “I need you to trust me.”

“I don’t.”

My eyes cut across the darkness to find her. Despite her words, she held a small, patient smile.

“I don’t trust you,” she repeated. “I don’t trust that you’re being honest with yourself. I don’t trust that you aren’t blaming yourself, and”—she sucked in a breath—“I need to know what happened.”

“What?” My word was tight. “You know what happened.”

“In the Western Flock ambush.”

I leaned back, studying her, but her eyes bore into me. My fists curled up, thinking this was about Robert, but my insides tore open with the desire to talk about it, to explain it to someone, to anyone, and I knew why she suddenly didn’t trust me. I wanted to tell someone before I died. I still believed I was going to die, and she didn’t want me to think that.

Even then, my heart stopped—only aching in my chest—and my lungs burned. All of my insides pressed against one another, as if trying to live when they’d died long ago. “I don’t know…” about this. I couldn’t even say that. I couldn’t even admit that I’d never told all the details to anyone.

“I need you to tell me,” she said, “so I can tell you why this isn’t your fault.”

“Why it isn’t my fault?” Her words didn’t compute.

She grabbed my hand. “Please.”

It was the desperation in her voice that reached me, and the desire in her eyes that I saw.

I nodded, but we sat in silence as I searched for the words, as I fought past years of forcing myself to forget, as I found the ability to speak about my secrets for the first time.

I had never felt so alive.

“Our mom was dying of something—I can’t remember what. I was just a kid.” Six years old, to be exact. “I thought my abilities were a secret, but my father must have known because he started screaming at me. Told me to heal her. Told me to fix everything. And…and I panicked.” I had to start at the beginning, before we found the streets. “I couldn’t heal the sick, and I tried to tell him, but he started to beat me, and Robert intervened.” I recalled the exact moment that I realized I wasn’t the only bad blood in the house. “Then Dad struck him.” My hands started to shake, and I tried to hide them, but Serena held them. She held them so tight it hurt. “The next thing I knew, he was in pieces. Both of our parents.” Robert had blown them up. He could blow anyone up. “We stayed under the bridge that night.”

“The eastern one?”

I had nearly forgotten Robert had taken her there too, but I nodded. “We’re from the eastern side originally, and Robert thought we could get into the Eastern Flock. I didn’t even know what a flock was.” I still wondered how Robert had known, how long he’d been researching the situation, how much he suffered with his powers. “Three days passed before Ida found us.” Serena tensed at the name. “I think she was going to take us out of our misery, especially me—I was sick from the cold—but she must have changed her mind, because she took us to Abigail. Abigail was the leader. She took us in. Taught us a few things. The ambush happened two weeks later.

“That day, Luke was sick.” I took in a breath, trying to calm down. “He probably caught whatever I had.” Just like Blake. “And the Western Flock had strict rules. They kept all the sick kids in the basement, so no one else would catch it. That’s why we weren’t together that night.”

The night everyone died.

I could still hear Robert shouting, jarring me out of my sleep, and feel him grabbing me, dragging me toward the stairs. But unlike my dream, the reality of what followed was sickening, and I recalled it all for Serena.

“The smoke blinded me, but nothing stopped Robert. His bravery was something I always admired.” I forced the image of my brother’s face out of my mind. “He never stopped fighting for us. He promised to keep the three of us together, and even though I begged to leave out the front door—even though that meant leaving Luke behind—he dragged me to the basement. He would never leave Luke behind.”

“You were just trying to survive,” Serena said.

I nodded. “I know.” I placed a hand on my chest as the rest of the night flooded in. “Sometimes, in the middle of the night, I’ll wake up with sweat drenching my chest and think it’s the blood and muck I was covered in that night.” The first dead person we saw was Victor, who opened the front door. The first alive person to die in front of us was a cop. The second was the person who killed the cop to protect us.

“At the top of the basement stairs, a cop met us. I thought we were going to die, but then Montana—she came out of nowhere.” With her dark hair, fangs, and porcelain skin, she was a modern-day vampire. “Henderson showed her in the photo for the death toll, but what we didn’t see is so much more important.” Goose bumps trailed up my arms as I remembered her dark abilities and warm personality. She could stop time, only for a little while, and I imagined that was how she saved us. It was also why she died. She’d spent her singular moment getting us out of the way. “She was strong and stubborn but loving. She was an untouchable angel with a devil’s mark. She was beautiful.”

And she had remained beautiful in death too.

“Robert disappeared down the stairs, as if her death couldn’t even shake his focus off Luke, and I ran as fast as my legs could take me,” I continued. “I’m amazed I didn’t trip down the stairs, but I just wanted to see Robert.” I cleared my throat. “I thought he’d be with Luke, but he never made it to Luke. A cop had him.” I recalled how the officer had tried to strangle Robert, how a gun came out, how I squeezed my eyes and did nothing as the weapon went off. “I think I heard the body hit the floor? I’m not sure. My ears were buzzing, and my eyes were burning, and I was shaking—or the foundation was shaking—and the only thing that brought my focus back was Robert’s scream.

“It was Nicholas. He saved us. Stabbed the guy, but caught the bullet.”

The curly haired twin was still one of my favorite people I had ever met, but I couldn’t bring myself to tell Serena that Nicholas was the one to teach me about not saying goodbye.

“Robert—” I swallowed my nerves. “He got trapped beneath Nicholas. I pulled him out.” The next part was impossible to explain. “We found Luke a few seconds later. I think”—my brow crunched—“I think Robert thought we were finally safe, but Luke was already shot. We found him clutching his teddy bear.”

My voice caught in my throat. Sweat had even collected on my palm, but Serena never let go. When I looked at her, I saw tears in her eyes. Tears that should have been mine.

I looked away. “Robert wanted me to heal him.” Luke was still alive, somehow. “But I—I couldn’t. He was sick, and the injury was too much, and I was scared, and nothing happened.” This time, I had to let Serena go. “Robert fell down next to him, expecting him to heal, I think. And when nothing happened, Robert started screaming at me just like our father had done, and I—”

I couldn’t say the rest out loud, but I could see the way Luke looked at me when I touched him, the way he smiled like he always did, the way his smile fell as he let go. I knew he was going to die before he did. My powers could do that to a person. When I met Serena in Shadow Alley, I had almost done it to her. If the injury was too much—or the sickness ran too deep—my touch overwhelmed their system, and they died. Robert didn’t even see Luke die because he was too busy screaming at me. But I think he knew. His eyes shifted at the same time Luke’s had—like we were all connected, and now the connection was broken.

“That’s when the cop came in,” I skipped ahead. “I saw him over Robert’s shoulder, and I pushed him, and I was shot.” My hand found my right shoulder, the only scar on my body, the only injury that never fully healed. “Honestly,” I choked on one thought I never let out before, “I wonder if I could’ve healed myself that night but decided not to. I wonder…I wonder if I wanted to die.”

After all, I thought we would get shot again and die anyway. But Robert stopped that. “Robert blew the guy up,” I concluded, “but when he faced me, he wasn’t the Robert I knew.” When he killed our parents, he immediately came to save me, to hug me, to tell me we’d be okay, that we’d always stay together. “That night, he snapped. He—” I recalled every word he said.

“He said it was my fault,” I sputtered. “He said we had to leave our family because of me, that Luke had died because of me, that all of our suffering had come down to me.”

“You know that’s not true.”

“Serena,” my voice cracked.

“He was a child too,” she said. “He didn’t know what he was saying.”

“I—” I considered everything. “I know that.” But I didn’t want to know that. “But I should’ve died that night. I should’ve died a long time ago.”

“No—”

I stopped her. “Abigail died. She was a leader who saved dozens. I’m a leader with fewer kids, but I didn’t die. Nicholas died saving us. I saved Tessa, but I didn’t die. Victor died opening a door. I opened that door, Serena. And I. Didn’t. Die.”

“You didn’t put the guns in their hands.”

“Is this your plan?” I asked, standing up even though my knees felt as if they’d buckle at any moment. “You wanted to hear my story so you could tell me what to think about it? How to feel?”

“That’s not why,” she interrupted, nearly screaming as she stood up.

“Then why listen? Why ask? Why come back at all and talk to me if all you’re going to say is cliché bull—”

“It’s not your fault!” This time, she did scream over me, but it was her tears that silenced me. “It’s not.” She sat down, and her voice dropped with her.

“I wish I could believe you,” I said, feeling the bitter tone leave me.

“You will,” she said, too calm, too calculating.

I backed up against the door, but her grays eyes never left me. She wasn’t afraid to look at me, to see me, to hear my story. It was her own that was shaking her, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear it.

“I think I knew,” she said. “I think I knew you were both in the Western Flock.”

I couldn’t breathe. She’d finally figured out she met Robert that night, something Robert and I had seen from the beginning. When Robert escaped, he found her on her parents’ doorstep. He took her. I followed him, but Calhoun found me. Serena had been with us from the beginning of our end.

“I knew this whole time,” she confessed, “but I refused to see it.”

“Why?” I asked, but she didn’t answer. She didn’t say a thing, and her silence—when paired with my confession—tore at me. “Because it’s too much?” I couldn’t even help my snarl, my pain, my reasoning for never telling anyone in the first place. After they knew, all they had was pity. Love ended like all those lives had.

Serena shook her head, and my stomach twisted as I tried to guess what she would say. “Then, why? Why didn’t you see it? Why’d you pretend this whole time?”

“Because it’s not your fault the Western Flock was ambushed that night,” she whispered. “It’s mine.”

It was 3:45 in the morning when time stopped. I could feel it in the prickly sensation on my skin. I had felt it once before. I had sensed her many days ago, and I squirmed, ready to run, but I stopped.

I knew she was there before I ever saw her. It was their energies that gave them away—a field I felt more strongly when I was a child, so much so that her presence awoke me from my sleep—and now, I was left to stare into the empty darkness, knowing she’d finally found me the way I found her.

We sensed one another, and I knew this day would come. I always knew. It was why I stole my father’s pocketknife. I couldn’t stay invisible forever.

“I know you’re there,” I said, and as if I dedicated the angel of death, she curled out of the shadows. At five years old, I recognized my inner demons in another person. Montana was the answer I had been looking for.

“Hello, child.” Her icy blue eyes were as unnatural as I felt, but I pretended she was different from me. I held up the pocketknife between us, the moonlight reflecting off the metal. At five years old, my violence was years beyond me. In fact, I think I had stolen that too—along with the souls—of all the strange people I’d touched and sensed.

“Do you know what a bad blood is?” Montana’s voice was as warm as the summer wind, but her stare reminded me of how cold it was outside. Her explanation was even colder, and she never bothered to look at my weapon. The vampire girl told me exactly what I was.

A bad blood.

I wasn’t human. I never was, and I never would be. On top of that, I wasn’t the only one who could sense bad bloods. With the flick of Montana’s hand, a rainbow-haired girl appeared by her side. Her chocolate skin was as beautiful as her plump curves. She looked like a fairy from my mother’s stories, while Montana played the part of the deceiving monster.

The two women sat in front of me like friends would, smiling, inviting, accepting. But Montana frightened me. Her striking height and muscular arms warned me of her strength, but her fragile smile was as bright as her inhuman gaze. I looked at them for a full minute before I looked at my clock. Still 3:45 in the morning. Time had truly frozen.

I didn’t know what I was up against at all.

“Stay away,” I screamed, but Montana didn’t flinch. Demons never had fear.

Ida was the one whose eyes widened, and she pulled Montana back, whispering in her ear. When Ida turned back to me, she smiled. Her teeth were colored like rainbows too. “We aren’t here to hurt you.”

She then told me other stories—stories so unlike my mother’s stories that I felt as if I were living in a nightmare. Bad bloods weren’t accepted into society. Cops took the bad blood kids away, and they were never seen again. My father was a cop. He wouldn’t protect me. My family wouldn’t be my family anymore, but they could give me a home. They could show me safety. They needed me.

Before I knew it, Montana was sitting right next to me. When I moved the knife, ready to strike her, the blade flew out of my hand and up into the ceiling. It stuck there, and I was stuck too. Montana’s eyes caught mine, and I was frozen like the time.

She placed her hand on my cheek, and as if she had bewitched me with a charm, I leaned closer to her, so close that I could smell the rosemary on her. I could feel her nails on my skin, and every bit of her enchanted me. Her lips were so beautiful. Her abilities swarmed into me, her soul unbelievable, her vision of the world so bright.

“You must visit our flock.” Her voice, like moonlight. “It’s a safe place, a place where you can help us.” Her gaze, like stars. “We need people like you.”

“Someone like you can help us find others and save them,” Ida said, sitting on my other side, but all I saw was Montana. All I felt were her powers. She was like a vampire, but she was so much more than that. She could see only the beauty in the world. Nothing was ugly when she touched me. “I can mentor you. I can teach you anything you want to know.”

And suddenly I was burning.

Montana let me go, time rushed back into my lungs, and I wheezed. Tears pushed at my eyes, but Ida’s hand was on my back, and I knew her powers the second she touched me. That moment revealed what Ida was, and I loved her for it, but I also hated her. She had brought my identity straight to me, an identity I didn’t completely understand.

“Go away, bad blood!” I screamed again, knowing the words hurt them somehow.

Both women blinked at me, unsure but willing to stay. Montana was holding my hand again, and I realized why I had burned. Numbers—something I knew was an address, but also something I couldn’t read—seared my skin.

“Come to us,” she said like I could understand. “It’ll guide you.”

I stared at it.

“The decision is up to her,” Ida spoke to Montana, but the girls lingered.

“She’s too young to make it.” Even though Montana whispered, I heard every word. “She won’t be safe here. We need her.”

“We’ll come back, when she’s older.”

“She won’t live that long.”

“Montana.”

“Ida.”

“I’ll come,” I interrupted.

They looked at me—rainbows and darkness—and I forced myself to nod. “I’ll come. Just”—I sucked in a breath—“I’ll come soon.”

Montana’s eyes sliced through me. She didn’t believe me. I knew that much. But I held my breath, and Ida nodded, and they were gone. In a flume of black smoke, both women disappeared, and time rushed into me. Goose bumps flew up my arms, and the knife fell out of the ceiling, landing on the wooden floor with a crack. Then, my room was still—as if nothing happened—and my clock clicked to 3:46 AM.

I screamed.

*

The memory repeated over and over again since I told Daniel the Western Flock ambush happened because of me. He didn’t even know the story. When I said it was my fault, he stared at me for a full minute before he left me in a thick silence. I hadn’t tried to chase him either. I didn’t have the right to.

I was the reason his brother had died. I was the reason. I had always been the reason. And it was my only secret until now.

I didn’t think I could face anyone ever again. But knocking shook the door, and before I could tell them to come inside—not knowing who to expect—the door creaked open, and Ryne popped his head in. The scars on his face were from long ago, but he had extra injuries now. I wondered if those would scar too.

“Are you okay?” he asked, as if it was a completely normal question to ask, as if I could fathom answering it. When I didn’t answer, he brushed the hair out of his face, and I saw his right eye. White. He would probably go blind if he didn’t get medical attention. “I heard you, talking to him, I mean.”

I couldn’t breathe.

“I came up when you started screaming,” he explained. “I know I shouldn’t have. Adam told me not to, but…” He shrugged. “I heard. The others don’t know. Daniel hasn’t said anything, aside from asking us not to watch the results tonight.”

Tonight. The final results were coming out in a few hours.

“It was silly, you two,” he continued, as I lost my ability to speak. “It’s no one’s fault. Not yours or Daniel’s or mine or anyone’s.”

I sat up, staring at the thirteen-year-old who rarely spoke, who—according to Daniel—didn’t have a single memory of his previous life, but Ryne’s dark eye said so much more. His voice sounded older too.

“Everything is one, big, twisted mistake,” he said, crossing his arms as if to make a point. “Understand?”

I nodded. “Thanks, Ryne.”

“Don’t thank me,” he said, his voice dropping. “I’m only doing this to make myself feel better.”

I frowned. “I don’t understand.”

“You told your secret,” he said. “I want the same luxury. I want that sort of strength. I want—” His voice cracked. “I told my sister about my abilities first. I was seven. She kept my secret for three years.”

“Ryne,” I stopped him. “Daniel told me you didn’t have any memories.”

As the story went, Maggie found him with a homeless man. His skull had been cracked. He barely survived.

“I lied.” Ryne shrugged. “I know exactly who my family is. My father’s a drunk, and my mother’s a whore. Big surprise. My sister wasn’t even my sister. She was just a kid my dad took in to clean his house. He killed her trying to kill me.”

I stared at him, really stared at him, and continued to stare as his secret deepened. He was fifteen—not thirteen—and he lived on the streets for a few years before he was hit by a car. His injury hadn’t even happened because he was a bad blood. He was only saved because of Maggie’s insecurities about being saved herself, and he wanted to give her that as thanks for saving him. Now that Maggie was gone, he felt as if he had to tell someone about himself. He wished he had told her when he could. He wished so many things. But secrets took over, and with twenty-four hours before the final election results, we knew our time was short. No one wanted to die with secrets in their grave.

“I think Daniel will understand why you told him,” Ryne said. “Just like you understand why I’m telling you.”

Had I told Daniel because of my fear of death? Or had I told him so he wouldn’t die? Either way, everything had to revolve around death. I hated it.

“He’s downstairs,” Ryne said.

I stood and forced myself to run downstairs to face him. If I had twenty-four hours left, I would make the most out of it. I would make this life mean something.

Daniel met my eyes as if he were expecting me to appear at any moment.

My hands shook as I crossed the room and sat on the couch next to him. The living room, for the first time in days, was empty. Where everyone had gone was beyond me, but I recalled what Ryne had said. No one was going to watch the results. With the TV in the living room, Daniel probably ordered everyone into his room and Cal’s office. But he was still here, and I wondered if he was tempted to break his own rules.

Neither of us said anything as we watched the empty screen, allowing all of our secrets to linger between us, but his name left me before I knew it. “Daniel?”

“I want to know.”

I told him everything. I told him how Montana came to me, how I met Ida, how they offered me a place in the Western Flock. “I only said I’d consider it to get them to leave. When they left, I screamed. My parents came in, and I told them everything.”

Daniel stared at the wall, guessing the rest. “Your dad.”

I nodded. “He was a cop. He reported it to his higher up.” I swallowed. “He didn’t feel good about it. He was sobbing that night, and my mother said something about everyone dying, and I remembered Montana and Ida, and I was terrified.” I forced myself to continue. “I went outside because—because—” I didn’t know why. I think I wanted to run. I think that’s when my running began. “Robert found me out there.”

And that’s where it all came together. Robert took me away, Calhoun took Daniel away, and both boys created flocks after I inadvertently destroyed their first one. And I loved them both.

“I needed to hear your story, so I knew what I did,” I explained why I asked him to tell me about the ambush. “I had to know that before I confessed or it would’ve meant nothing.”

“I should’ve told you too,” he said, “from the beginning.”

Neither of the boys had explained their involvement with one another, not even when they realized how the three of us were connected. If they had…I shook my head.

I couldn’t help but feel as if everyone had lied about everything. We all had secrets. We all had a dark side to our innocent cover. I wondered what we would be like if we had been completely honest with each other in the first place. Maybe more people would be alive, but then again, maybe more people would be dead.

“Are you mad?” I asked after a moment, and Daniel continued to dwell in silence as he fixated on the wall.

I waited for him to tell me to leave, to get out, to disappear on the streets like Robert had. But he didn’t say a word. Instead, he reached up, and softly, he laid his warm palm on my cheek. His thumb moved over my cheekbones, and it was only then that I realized I had cried. I had cried all the tears I had left.

“Are you?” I pressed, needing an answer.

He faced me—his unnatural green eyes searching mine—but he didn’t answer. Instead, he kissed me, his sweet lips soft and inviting. And everything around us disappeared as he deepened it, his fingers falling to my hair, his breath matching mine. When we parted, he stayed as close as ever, and shook his forehead against mine. “I can’t,” he said, making my heart leap into my throat. “You’ve taken my ability to hate away from me.”

When he sighed, he dropped his forehead onto my shoulder, both of his arms wrapping around me. “The world can’t break us. Nothing can.”

I ran my fingers through his hair before I ran my hand across his shoulders—including the scarred one—and down his back. He held me closer, and I squeezed back, too afraid to let go again.

A boy I met on the streets, a boy that saved me a decade after I almost destroyed him, and all I wanted was the freedom to live and love too, for the chance to love him in the future, for the chance for the others to find someone they cared about. For all of us. For all the bad bloods.

“Whoa!” Adam’s voice echoed through the small room, Daniel fell backwards, almost shoving me away, and I did the same to him. Mini Cal had already erupted into laughter, a deep laughter I never thought I’d hear again. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.” He even managed a wink.

Daniel’s cheeks turned red beneath his tan. “Shut up,” he said, but his voice was light. “Shut up right now.”

Adam continued to chuckle, wiggling his eyebrows in my direction. “You two have fun,” he said, slowly backing out of the room.

“Wait,” I stopped him.

Adam paused, suddenly turning serious and looking more like his uncle at every moment.

“The results,” I said.

“The kids won’t see it,” Adam started explaining how he was obeying Daniel’s order.

I turned to Daniel, not afraid to look him in the eyes anymore. “I want them to,” I said. “I want to watch the results.”

Daniel paled. “What?”

“We should watch it together,” I repeated myself, only looking over at Adam when Daniel did.

Adam’s thick eyebrows furrowed in the middle, just like Cal’s did. “You sure?”

I nodded, but Daniel didn’t. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Why?”

“Because if we lose—”

“We’ve already lost,” I cut him off, “but we don’t have to accept that. We don’t have to cower from it.” The words tumbled out of me before I could stop myself. “Even if we do lose, I already told Alec we won, no matter what happens.” We could win in our hearts. “We don’t have to hide anymore. We should face it, head-on. For everyone.”

“Maggie would’ve loved that,” Adam said, almost too quietly to hear.

Daniel looked at him, then at me, then at his hands. “I’ll get them,” he decided, leaping up only to disappear down the hallway. We had a few hours left, and Adam was looking at me like I’d just bought him extra time.

“Thanks,” he said.

“I don’t deserve that.”

He shook his head, and his black hair moved side-to-side with him. “You do. You came back, and you brought Daniel back to us,” he said. “Even though we’re broken, I think we can be whole again. Thanks to you.” He smiled and revealed he was missing a few teeth from the ambush. “Just don’t take the sidekick spot. That’s mine.” He chuckled again. He hadn’t lost his ability to laugh. He was still alive, and so was I.

No one could take that away from us. That was our soul.

***

Cal loaded everyone up on anything sugary he could find. At first, I questioned my decision to sway Daniel into allowing everyone to watch. After all, if we lost, it would be easy for the kids to panic. But if we won…

I shook my head, trying to rid myself of jinxing our future, but Daniel squeezed my hand as if I said it out loud. The TV was on, and even though my eyes were fixed on Henderson and Logan II as they appeared, all I could think about was the kids in front of me, of Daniel next to me, of all the people who I affected by existing. I understood if Daniel couldn’t love me after this. I understood everything. But until then, I had a few more things I had to say.

“I’m sorry.”

“I know,” he said. “Me, too.” He shot me a small smile, much like the one I saw when we first met eyes in his kitchen. “I’m not mad. I already told you that. We all have mistakes in our past and in our future. It’s a fact of life.” He stared at the screen like it would reveal exactly how many mistakes we would make in the upcoming moments—and perhaps our last ones. Right as I was about to speak, the announcer did.

“For the safety of the public and the candidates, this is being broadcast from our studio.” It was only then that I realized Henderson had a cut on his brow, poorly covered up by studio makeup.

“What happened to him?” Adam asked.

Calhoun muttered a few words, but the only ones I made out were “precincts” and “protest.” Someone had hurt him. It wasn’t a good sign.

Daniel leaned forward, as if he’d turn it off, but then he turned the volume up.

“This election has been forthcoming and honest. Despite these past few days, the amount of votes we received doubled our last election, so Vendona thanks you.” As the man spoke, the camera whisked over Alec Henderson with Jane beside him. She clutched his arm, and I wondered if she’d received my message, if she’d watched Stephanie’s recording. Then, the camera was on Logan II and his wife, and I tried not to recall the repulsion I felt toward a man I barely knew. I had to remind myself of what I learned about him. Logan II wasn’t the enemy; Vendona was—and Vendona could become our ally.

“We ask that all citizens remain indoors after the results are announced,” the announcer continued. “This is to protect the welfare of all those involved and the well-being of our city-state. Thank you.”

“Come on already,” Adam mumbled, bouncing Tessa in his lap. She giggled, seeming to forget what was happening right in front of her. I squeezed Melody to my chest. She petted the cat in her lap. The purring was loud, and the girls’ giggles were louder.

“May I introduce our new president—”

That single second of silence lasted a lifetime. For a moment, it was as if Montana had defied death and stopped time again, just to allow us to live for that much longer.

“Joshua Logan II.”

Daniel’s head fell into his hands. “No. No. No.”

His protests drifted off as Adam stopped bouncing Tessa around. “This can’t be happening,” he said, looking at Cal as if his uncle could stop it.

Ami started crying. The little ones mirrored her. But I was frozen, just as I had been with Montana, and I couldn’t breathe until Logan stepped forward. Henderson followed him, snatching the microphone before Logan could. “I demand a recount.”

The sobbing stopped. Daniel raised his head. Adam kept looking at Cal.

His uncle nodded, his jaw popping. “They have to do it now.”

A recount would happen. How long it would take and what it would mean was beyond us.

“We might have a few hours,” Cal said, but what he actually said was hidden in his words—something only Adam, Catelyn, Daniel, Ami, and I could understand. Henderson was buying us time to run.

“I’m staying,” I said before anyone could move.

Daniel’s eyes never left the screen, the announcer rambling on about what would happen in the next few hours, and neither did Adam’s.

“I’m staying,” I repeated. “I’m staying ‘til it ends.”

Catelyn grabbed my hand. “Me, too.”

Cal nodded. “You’re welcome to stay here.” It didn’t matter that he’d be killed if they caught him protecting us. He would stay with us too.

“Thank you,” I said.

Adam agreed to stay too. So did Ami. And Daniel followed.

“I can’t get them out on my own,” he added, remaining neutral, “but I do think it’s bedtime.”

Tessa started to whine. “We want to hear the numbers.”

She didn’t even know what she was saying.

“I know,” Daniel said, patting her on the head, “but you’ll be awake before they read it. It’ll take all night.”

It wouldn’t and everyone knew it. This time, Daniel was making the decision. The kids had seen the results once. They didn’t need to see them again. No one protested as Ami took the able ones back to bed. I didn’t even say a word. Instead, I lay on the couch and waited.

“Serena. Serena.” So many people had shaken me awake recently, I was starting to recognize everyone’s method. This soft shake with a firm grip was Daniel. His voice mimicked his touch—soft but rushed—and his gaze held the same intensity it always did. “They’re about to announce.”

I sat up, fighting the grogginess, and I realized why when I rubbed my eyes. The TV read 3:47 AM. Catelyn was sleeping on the other couch, and Adam was sitting in front of her, sleeping too, his arms folded in front of himself. Daniel was in front of me and wide-awake. No one else was.

“We should wake them up,” I said, but he reached up and pulled me down to the floor. I crawled next to him as he shook Adam’s foot, and when Adam came to, he shook Catelyn awake.

It was just the four of us—two older kids from each flock—and we all held one another in some way.

“Ladies and gentleman, we thank you for your patience,” the same announcer appeared, but this time, his beady eyes were wide and droopy. Henderson and Logan both looked disheveled as well—as if they’d tried to sleep in the studio and couldn’t. Their wives were worse.

“We’ve done a recount, and there will be no more recounts for this election.”

Alec Henderson was sweating. Logan was shaking. The whole world was waiting.

“Vendona, please welcome your next president—” The pause again. It killed me. “Mr. Alec Henderson.”

Daniel jumped to his feet, screamed, and fell down—as if he’d used his last bit of energy to celebrate. Adam started to cry. Catelyn held onto him, and I froze, unable to move until kids started running into the living room, one after the other, Calhoun following them all. When he hugged Adam, Catelyn came to me, held us both, and jumped. She even kissed my cheek. And before I knew it, Daniel was hugging me too. And then, Melody, and Tessa, and Ami, and Justan, and Ron, and Ryne, and even Vi. I couldn’t wait until I could hug Michele again.

We would live.

“We won,” Daniel said the words first, his arms wrapped around me, and mine wrapped around his. It didn’t matter that we couldn’t hear Henderson’s winning speech. His smile was enough of a speech for us all.

“Vendona,” Alec’s voice reached us anyway. “We thank you.”

We were free. It was over. And the future was beginning.

Cal opened up the blinds, whopping because we didn’t have to hide anymore, and Adam pushed it even further by opening the door and rushing out into the cold. We shouldn’t have gone outside, but we did.

We went out into the cold, into the streets of Vendona, and cheered as loud as we could, allowing our voices to be heard, allowing us to stand in the streetlamp’s light instead of in the alleyway’s darkness, and we hugged and laughed and threw snow into the air.

It was only then that I realized all the dark storm clouds were gliding past us, leaving the yellow stars to blink above us, the waning moon the only silver left in the sky. The city was alive and warmer, and the dying wind moaned a melody as it pushed the storm out. Ice was on the ground, but nearly gone.

It was no longer snowing in the city of Vendona.

My mother’s name was Charlotte. My father’s name was Charles. Their similar names were how they had met in school, so they gave my sister and me similar names. Serena and Serah.

The first day I met Serah—actually met her—she told me of her favorite story of our mother’s, one about two twin stars who fell to earth at different times and had to find one another again. It was then that Charlotte asked Serah to finish it, to find an ending, and only now did Serah know how to write it. She was seven years old and already writing full-length novels. In her spare time, she was teaching me how to read. Her story about the twin stars was the first one I wanted to get through on my own. The first words I learned how to write—other than my name—was Serah, Charlotte, Charles, and Daniel. Now, his name felt different when I shouted it.

“Daniel!” I raced down the hill I never considered running down again, the hill that led to the Northern Flock’s house, and Daniel saw me before I reached the bottom.

I could hear the cameras clicking. I ignored them as I reached out to him, and they disappeared when he grabbed my hand. Seeing him helped the chaos melt away. Kissing him made it better.

“You’re late,” he said, pulling grass out of my hair.

Heat rushed to my cheeks. I was supposed to be clean. I knew that. But despite living with my biological parents now, it was difficult to stay off the streets. They still felt like my home, and I found myself sneaking in and out of places I wasn’t supposed to be—not without an escort anyway. Adelio basically took me everywhere, and by the look on Daniel’s face, I knew Adelio was skidding down the hill behind me.

“Miss Serena,” he exhaled as he stalked up to us, rubbing the heat off his forehead. “Please. Wait. Your family doesn’t know this area—”

They appeared after him, Serah first, dragging Melody behind her. My parents had officially adopted her today. It was why I was late. When the paperwork came in, I forgot everything else.

I told Daniel all about it, and he hugged me tighter than ever. After Henderson had won, dozens of bad bloods came out of hiding. Some went into adoption like Tessa, some returned to their original families like I had, others found themselves making their own lives, like Michele, who was now one of Henderson’s many political consultants. Her psychic abilities remained a secret. With her help and Henderson’s economic support, Daniel was opening up an adoption center for bad bloods alone. With no family to return to, he was focusing on creating families for others—and making it possible to remember the ones we lost.

He stared at the little snowflake stone by our feet, the makeshift headstone he made for Blake, and the many others around it. Each member had one, but only one person owned the land. Daniel. At first, Vendona predicted he’d choose the burnt land for the memorial, but he didn’t. Out of all the places in Vendona he could’ve chosen, he chose the northern water tower. When asked why, he looked at me and said, “That’s where we began to win.”

The old water tower was something else now. Walls went all around it, and every known name in all four flocks was carved into it in white gold. At night, I heard the memorial looked like a thousand stars—or snowflakes—falling to the ground, an unforgettable sight for all. On top of that, Daniel insisted we didn’t discriminate. All sixty-four officers killed during the two ambushes were included.

It was said to be the only place in the outskirts you could see from the Highlands. Adam insisted it was true, and considering he was one of the construction workers on the crew, I believed him. I also heard he was a rather fast worker. Today, the memorial was opening to the general public, but we were starting our day at the house.

“Did you bring it?” Daniel asked, and I dug into my bag.

“Of course I did,” I said, pulling out two teddy bears. One for Luke, one for Blake. Supposedly, the one I had for Blake was Blake’s real teddy bear. Right after Henderson was announced as president, Catelyn snuck back to the house, broke in, and found it among the rubble, unharmed. I half-suspected she went to the main square and bought one. An unspoken lie in exchange for the one Daniel had given to comfort her. They both knew better, but they accepted it just the same.

Sometimes, it was the only way.

When I handed the bear to Daniel, he placed it by Blake’s snowflake stone. He would place Luke’s at the water tower, and then, the two bears would be left forever.

“Ready?” I asked, glancing over my shoulder. My mother and father were keeping my sisters—both Serah and Melody—away. They knew we needed our space. Adelio stood next to my father, just as much a part of our family, and when I looked back, Daniel was watching them too.

Unlike me, he had lost his entire family. His younger brother, Luke, was gone. The flocks were broken up. And Robert had disappeared, never reappearing again. Daniel decided against looking up his parents to see if he had any extended family, and went on to live with Calhoun. He even had Calhoun’s last name, and this time, Daniel Wilson wasn’t a fake ID. Vi became a Wilson, too.

I was Serena Malone.

Daniel laid a hand on my shoulder, and slowly, we made our way over to my family. Despite the past—with my father being the announcer and Daniel’s involvement in the flocks—they got along. It helped that my father explained his side of the tale, how he quit the force that night, how he thought the kids would be saved if he reported them, instead of waiting for Vendona to discover them. He was a tailor now. They chatted the entire walk to the water tower.

Alec Henderson was the first person I saw, standing next to Cal. The two remained close friends, and Cal kept Adam even closer. The three men looked like best friends, but Jane’s companion was the one who made me happiest.

Catelyn and Jane sat on the grass together, dressed in matching red suits, and both women giggled like sunshine lived inside of them. After everything that happened, I had managed to keep my promise to Catelyn. She had a home with the Hendersons as their adopted daughter. Stephanie Henderson, their biological daughter, had died. When the election had settled down and the proper paperwork could be read, it became clear that the Eastern Flock had been stopped at the border and executed, Stephanie among them. Still, Jane remained focused on helping bad bloods—especially female bad bloods—find homes, education, and jobs. Catelyn was the first person she helped. The two seemed inseparable now. Catelyn even kept me up-to-date on the Highlands. Ami, after all, had returned to her mother, and I worried for the fourteen-year-old. Catelyn insisted she was fine, even happy, and Marion sent me letters every week. She was fighting to take down the gates of the Highlands, to combine the areas so we could meld together even more, but some didn’t like that. And more didn’t like bad bloods receiving rights.

Border patrol was arresting up to a dozen people a day, and hate crimes were rampant. Vandalism of the new memorial was actually the reason it was opening up so late. But today—despite the rumors of eggs—it looked beautiful.

It was difficult to tear my eyes away from it to search the crowd for other familiar faces. It was even more difficult to look past the cameras snapping photos of me—the girl who escaped a blood camp, the girl who stole souls, the girl who took the place of another, the girl who loved that boy from those ambushes. I had many names now. So did the others. But I wanted to see them for myself.

As far as I knew, Ryne, Tessa, Justan, and Ron were placed into adoption, but I hadn’t seen them since. Even when I looked them up, I couldn’t find them. And now—looking across the field—I didn’t see them here either.

“You’ll see them again one day,” Daniel said, knowing I was looking for them.

“I always thought we’d be inseparable.”

He fiddled with a silver ribbon in my hair. “We are.”

I wasn’t sure if he was referring to the memorial, to the flocks, or to us, but I decided it didn’t matter. I wouldn’t be who I am today if it weren’t for the people I had met and the people I had lost. Staying alive and well was the only proof I needed to know we were all together.

“Do you want to see it?” Daniel asked as he started pulling me toward the tower.

I fought a giggle, knowing I had no choice in the matter, and I followed him to the building. The last time we’d climbed it, I thought he was insane when he asked me to become Stephanie, and now, only four months later, I still thought he was crazy. But the right kind of crazy.

I let him drag me to the top, allowing all the swirling white gold names to blur past me, but I still tried to count them as I went. A total of one hundred and twenty names followed us to the top, and although many described it as morbid, I was relieved to be in a place where bad bloods were remembered, celebrated, acknowledged, and—alive. They would always be alive.

When we reached the top, I knew that was the point of it all. The warm air rushed past us, and in the spring gale, my silver ribbon flew out of my hair. I tried to reach for it, but it flew away, and I grabbed the railing to stop myself from falling over.

That’s when I saw him.

He caught the ribbon, the silver glowing in his fingertips as much as his smile. A sad smile.

Robert.

He mouthed the words, “I’m sorry.”

And before I could shout out to him, Daniel wrapped his arms around my waist, and my eyes fluttered to his face. “Amazing, isn’t it?” he asked, looking out across the crowd—at the hundreds of people coming out to support us, still behind makeshift fences that would soon be taken down—but I wasn’t looking at a single one.

I stared at the empty spot where Robert had stood. He was gone now, and so was the ribbon. I blinked and even rubbed my eyes, searching and searching some more, but I never found him again.

Robert was gone. He had disappeared.

“Sissy.” Serah was by my side before I even realized it. She had followed us up the tower. “What are you looking at?”

I looked at her, at her curly blonde head and wide brown eyes, and then, I looked past her to Melody, her plump cheeks shoved in between the railings. She even giggled and waved, and the waiting crowed reacted, cheering and throwing signs up in the air.

I finally saw the hundreds of people, and all the flowers they were carrying, and all the signs I couldn’t quite read yet. Daniel read them to me, but Serah kept her eyes on the spot I had searched.

“I have a few people I have to greet,” Daniel said, squeezing my hand before letting go. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Okay.”

“I love you.”

This time when he said it, I believed him, and I believed myself.

“I love you too,” I said, and he grinned before leaving the tower and the view of the Highlands behind him.

Serah tugged on my hand. “What were you looking at?”

I glanced at the crowd, but still found no one. “Nothing.” I smiled, picking up Melody in the process. “You want to watch everyone up here with me?”

Serah nodded eagerly, taking a moment to wave at our parents, and they waved back. It all happened in the exact moment Daniel opened the gates.

Some of the people were excited, some were just there to take pictures—to say they were there—and others were there to cry. People, rich and poor, humans and bad bloods, walked around, reading the signs, speaking with the survivors, and soon, the crowd blended together until you couldn’t tell the difference anymore. The only ones that stuck out were the haters and rioters who were kicked out.

Bad bloods would be looked down on for many years to come, but at least we were making progress. And maybe, just maybe, one day they would look like everyone else. Maybe not. Tough times awaited us, but good times did too. And I was proud that we had time at all.

When the first person reached the top of the tower, I hadn’t expected it to be a teen boy, one I had searched for earlier, one whose eye had healed since the last time I saw him.

Ryne ran over and hugged me. I put Melody down so I could hug him back.

“How are you?” I asked, unable to hold back the rush in my voice.

“I’m good,” he said, pulling back as more and more people filled the top of the tower, some obviously listening to our conversation. “I was adopted into the Highlands.” It was the reason I hadn’t seen him.

When I glanced up, two men holding hands smiled at me. I nodded at them. They had given Ryne a place to live.

“And you?” he asked. “Where have you been?”

“I’m happy,” I said, feeling the word in my heart for the first time, “and I’m home.”

The End

About the Author

Shannon A. Thompson is a twenty-three-year-old author, avid reader, and habitual chatterbox. She was merely sixteen when she was first published, and a lot has happened since then. Thompson's work has appeared in numerous poetry collections and anthologies, and her first installment of The Timely Death Trilogy became Goodreads' Book of the Month. As a novelist, poet, and blogger, Thompson spends her free time writing and sharing ideas with her black cat named after her favorite actor, Humphrey Bogart. Between writing and befriending cats, she graduated from the University of Kansas with a bachelor's degree in English, and she travels whenever the road calls her.

Visit her blog for writers and readers at www.shannonathompson.com.

Acknowledgements

When I was little, my father used to ask me what color the sky was. If he said gray, I’d say blue. If he said blue, I’d say gray. I was always one to argue, but I never debate whether or not he influenced my life. Without my father’s support, I wouldn’t have been able to follow my dreams, and for that, I thank him with all of my love.

Around the same time in my childhood, I had many dreams, and every fairy tale out there told me to wish on stars to make my dreams come true. I did, but I mainly wondered when it would happen. My imagination decided wishes must come true on a full moon, because that was when the world is at its brightest. Now that I am older, I know that this is still true but a lot more complicated.

Dreams are those brightest moments, just like a full moon, but they come true from hard work, dedication, and a dash of good luck…and that dash of good luck comes from wishing on stars. Those stars in life are those who made it happen. Everyone at Clean Teen Publishing is a star. I thank Courtney, Rebecca, Marya, Melanie, and all the CTP authors for being those shining stars even on the darkest of days. Dreams are bright because of you.

At the end of the day, there are too many people to thank, but I always thank my readers. Your daily messages keep the days bright and warm, and I cannot thank you enough to express my gratitude. Just know that when I look at the sky at night—while I’m writing that next novel or blog post or tweet—I am reminded of you, and I am grateful for all of your kindness.

Thank you,

~SAT

Subscribe to our Clean Teen Publishing Newsletter and receive a free gift. Plus, get insider news, book updates, and exclusive giveaways.

If you are enjoying the Bad Bloods Series, we recommend you check out Shannon's other complete series titled The Timely Death Trilogy.

Two destines. One death.

"Her kiss could kill us, and my consent signed our death certificates."

Eric Welborn isn't completely human, but he isn't the only shade in the small Midwest town of Hayworth. With one year left before his eighteenth birthday, Eric is destined to win a long-raging war for his kind. But then she happens. In the middle of the night, Eric meets a nameless shade, and she's powerful—too powerful—and his beliefs are altered. The Dark has lied to him, and he's determined to figure out exactly what lies were told, even if the secrets protect his survival.

Jessica Taylor moves to Hayworth, and her only goal is to find more information on her deceased biological family. Her adoptive parents agree to help on one condition: perfect grades. And Jessica is distraught when she's assigned as Eric's class partner. He won't help, let alone talk to her, but she's determined to change him—even if it means revealing everything he's strived to hide.

Minutes Before Sunset is the first book in The Timely Death Trilogy. The Timely Death Trilogy is a brand-new exciting young adult paranormal series.

Get your copy today!

Table of Contents

- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- Chapter 26
- Chapter 27
- Chapter 28
- Chapter 29
- Chapter 30
- Chapter 31
- About the Author
- Acknowledgements