The whole thing takes an hour, but by the end of it, I know their names, their voices, their faces, and their favorite foods. Antonio doesn’t explain why the last one’s necessary; he just wants to make sure this is a dossier I’ll have in my head forever, because there isn’t a scrap of paper he’d dare write any of this information down on. These are the Reach’s spies. When we’re set, he tips his dirty hat to them and we watch as they ascend a stone staircase.

“Those are your people,” Antonio repeats to me. “I’ll leave the city when the Races begin, but they know the extraction plan. Each of them has come over to our side—for one reason or another—and your daddy’s set each piece spinning into motion just to make sure he gets you home safe. Arranging all this has cost money and lives. Do not forget those names. Do not forget those faces. And when you cross that finish line, don’t you dare trust anyone whose favorite food you don’t damn well know.”

Part Two: Thunder

A storm wouldn’t be all that fun without a little noise.

—Gold Man Jones, spoken three minutes before his death at the Battle of Oranges

Chapter 9: In the Morning Quiet

A polite knock wakes me up. It really is polite, too. It’s not paired with a raised voice or drunken laughter or anything. Silence follows. I roll over, squint through the half-opened window, and realize the light funneling into the room is not from the sun. I grumble out from under the covers and throw a shirt on before opening the door.

Ayala is there. “Good morning!”

She smiles and I like her a little less. I actually raise a hand to shield my eyes from the glow of the hallway behind her. How is she dressed already? Is she wearing makeup?

“Huh,” I say.

It’s not a real response. It’s not even a word, just a half-formed grunt. She continues smiling, maybe waiting for something more eloquent, but it’s so very clear I have nothing else to offer her. It takes me a few seconds to figure out that I’m blocking the doorway.

“You’re coming in?” I nod to myself. “You’re coming in.”

She laughs as I step aside. In the time it takes me to close the door, she already has both lamps on in the room. I guess I’m waking up now. Stumbling over to the table, I plunk down in the seat opposite her. She’s busily setting out packages and bags that I didn’t even notice she was carrying. I’m staring at them helplessly and trying to figure out how she carried them all with just two hands when my eyes find the most important thing she’s brought me.

“Coffee!”