Leave Grace to sort it all out, because she will anyway.

* * *

She does. I don’t know how she convinces the others that this is how we do things now—I don’t even know when she does it. But after breakfast, Josie follows me out. She’s shadowed by Khalil, and her steps are marked by Riley and Mackenzi’s glares. She looks pale and tired but determined.

She doesn’t say a word, so I don’t either.

Grace’s question last night rattled me. I understand Josie. I would have done the same for my friends, once upon a time.

But that doesn’t mean I have to like her.

We pass through the garden to the other side of the fences. Riley and I cut through the fence to create a better passage after only a couple of days. It was too much of a fuss otherwise—and cutting through all that wire was cathartic.

When we get to our small cemetery, I point to the oldest grave. It’s the only one that’s slightly overgrown. Weeds more than flowers, but I’ve come to like it. It makes it look like she’s still part of us here.

“That’s Serenity.” I clear my throat and add, “Hi, Serenity.” I always greet them all, one by one. I promised them I wouldn’t forget them, and I intend to keep that promise.

I count them off. “Aleesha and Walker and Chloe and Faith and Mei.”

One grave looks freshly dug, with the ground only settling now. The smell of newly turned earth still lingers in the air. “That’s Elias. He came down with it five days ago and died within a day. We’ve never lost anyone so quickly before. I didn’t… No one anticipated it.”

Josie sniffs, but she turns away before I can see her wipe at her eyes. “I don’t know how you do it. I don’t know how any of us are supposed to. When we left with Hunter… Saoirse wasn’t the only one. Others started coughing too. Some of them must have gotten sick, but I don’t know anyone who died. We were abandoned before…” She draws a shuddering breath. “I need to know. Has anyone ever died after being sick this long? Did anyone hold on for weeks only to die after all?”

It’s the first time she fully looks at me, and there’s so much heart in her eyes that I have to close mine. I don’t want to answer this question, because that’s a type of cruelty that goes too far, even for me. But to not answer would be crueler still.

“Yes.”

Josie’s shoulders drop. “Oh.”

She angles her face up toward the pale, autumn sun, barely cresting the trees around us, and she doesn’t speak. She shivers. In the silence we hear birdsong, and Khalil and Riley, arguing.

“When we don’t need new graves to be dug, I tend to the ones we have. I help out in the garden. You can figure out where you’re useful, I’m sure.” I keep my voice as level as possible. I don’t want to feel bad for her. I don’t want to see how much that one word impacted her. I want her to get to work.