I walk out. Past the onlookers. Through the east wing and toward the communal areas. It’s the same route I took the night Hunter demanded to see me, the night when everything changed.

What I’m about to do now will change everything again. At least for me.

I brush my fingers along the rough spots on my hands.

Past the open space between wings. Past the cafeteria.

I don’t stop until I get to the infirmary, and when I do, my heart is racing. My hands are shaking. I don’t even notice it until I knock.

When Casey opens the door, the first thing I hear is coughing on the other side. It sounds like someone is choking.

“Emerson.” Casey tilts his head. He has a torn shirt bound over his mouth and nose. Blood spatters stain his clothes, and his skin is gray. “What are you doing here? Are you sick? We’ve cleaned out rooms in—”

I shake my head to interrupt him. “No, it’s not that. It’s about Serenity.”

He doesn’t say anything.

“Where is she?” I immediately correct myself: “I mean, where is her body?”

His face falls. “She’s here, still. I’ve talked to Grace about a way to—” He breathes in sharply. “We need to find a good way to deal with—with the victims, but we haven’t yet. I can’t carry her out on my own.”

“I’ll help,” I say.

Something in his expression crumbles. “I appreciate the thought, but you shouldn’t be here.”

“I want to.” I swallow and try to make him understand. “She shouldn’t have been here either. She deserves to have someone take care of her, at the end. You were there. And now I will be. She shouldn’t be alone.”

He frowns. “What are you saying?”

“There’s good earth outside of the fence. I know because I spent most of my day outside. I’ve been digging holes all day. I can dig a grave too.”

The words hang in the air between us.

“Emerson…” Casey hesitates.

“She deserves to have someone give her a proper goodbye.” I do the only thing that makes sense. I reach out to take his hand. “You’ve made this choice. Trust me to make mine.”

It’s been a long time since I’ve asked for anyone’s trust.

Casey nods. “Are you certain?”

“I’ll eat with you tomorrow.”

And in the end, it’s as simple as that. A choice. A decision. A seed in good earth. I follow Casey into the infirmary, and I try not to flinch at the sight of the sick teens. Leah is in the farthest bed, and she’s pale and quiet. Aleesha is coughing near constantly.

I try not to think about the air I breathe—the air we share that smells stale and sick—even though I’m wearing a mask. I simply help Casey carry Serenity out. He’s wrapped her in the linen sheets from her bed, as stained with blood as his clothes are.

She’s heavy. Heavier than I thought she would be—but at the same time, maybe lighter too. When we carry her out of the building and off the grounds, as the night falls around us, I don’t feel afraid for the first time since I can remember. When Casey leaves me and I go to grab the shovel from the shed, the same peace and purpose I felt when I was planting overwhelms me.