Diamond stood over the stove in her father’s kitchen, staring at the egg in her hand and the pan heating up on the burner, wondering whether she could bring herself to do it. She needed to eat; she was famished. She’d put almost nothing in her stomach since she’d been freed from Fort Strong, and she was starting to feel weak. And yet, as she stood there, looking at the egg, the thought of cracking it and watching it cook made her feel nauseous.

Some of it was morning sickness. She’d already vomited twice that morning. It was a singularly unpleasant experience for her, particularly because there was nothing in her stomach, so the process was more of a forced pantomime. She’d knelt over the toilet, mouth stretched open, convulsing as a thin trickle of spit ran to the edge of the bowl.

She was also worried about Buddy and Cormack. She understood that they were locked in a battle against T’phong Soh and his crew, and Diamond had witnessed firsthand the brutality with which Soh operated. Buddy hadn’t tried to minimize the dangers, and the reality that their lives were at risk petrified her.

She was so lost in her thoughts, she didn’t hear her father enter the room. It startled her when he touched her shoulder. She gave a sharp gasp and pulled away instinctively.

“I’m sorry,” he said. He seemed almost as startled as she’d been. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

She shook her head. “No, it’s OK,” she said. “I was just a little preoccupied. I didn’t hear you come in.”

“You’ve got a lot on your mind, I’m sure.”

“You too, I’m guessing.”

“Did I hear Buddy leaving your room this morning?” Diamond shot him a look but said nothing. “None of my business. I suppose I’ll just have to get used to that. He’s actually not a bad kid, from what I can tell.”

“Are you giving me your blessing?”

He shook his head. “It’s not my place to bless anything. I’m just saying if you really love him, you could do worse.” He nodded, and held his hand out to take the egg from her. “Here, let me do that for you.”

“I can do it,” she protested. She didn’t like the idea of relying on anyone—for anything.

“No, you can’t.”

“What does that mean?” she demanded.

He gave an amused laugh. “I’m not challenging your right to make breakfast,” he said. “But you won’t be able to eat anything you cook right now. Your mother was the same way when she was first pregnant with you. Hungry all the time, but the act of cooking made her sick. She was in the bathroom so often, I thought she was using again. We had fights about that.”