It was a conclusion Twelve couldn’t ignore. It shifted the axis of her world and stopped her in her tracks. And with it came fresh grief as memories she had drowned in dream milk resurfaced. She missed her family. She wanted to talk to them again, to tell them her fears, to be comforted by them and offer comfort in return. She wanted to go back and be a better sister to Poppy—how different their relationship would be if she had another chance.

A cold weight settled in Twelve’s stomach. Pointless thoughts. There was no going back. No chance to apologize. Her family were gone forever, and nothing could change that.

And yet, something whispered, were they truly gone? She still carried the memory of them. Couldn’t she keep them alive in other ways? They’d taught her so much, shown her what goodness was. If there was any tribute worthy of them, wasn’t it that?

She could be a better person. For them. She would be.

Although the darkness around her was weighted with terror, Twelve felt suddenly lighter. The relief was indescribable: for the first time in years, she thought of her loved ones without shame or agony or despair. Her da, who had believed in her, inspired her to be better. Her ma, who had taught her to forgive, shown her the quieter type of strength it took. And Poppy. Poppy, who had looked up to her, imitated her, infuriated her. Twelve thought of her family now with a burning desire to do right by them, and the simple certainty that she could.

She bit her lip and forced her thoughts into order. She was going to make everything right; it wasn’t too late. Somehow she had to help Six find his sister, even if it took years, even if he hated her now. But first she had to get out of here and discover what had happened to the lodge.

The memory of the green fire nagged at her. Were there goblins here again? It was impossible; the Hunters would have collapsed the tunnel by now and been on high alert for another attack. Still, something was clearly wrong. She had probably broken a hundred lodge rules in going after Seven, but a Hunter would never hit her over the head and drag her unconscious to a cell. They would take her to see Elder Silver. No, not Silver, Twelve reminded herself sharply, another flash of grief searing through her.

A distant sound stiffened her spine. Footsteps were approaching quickly and, with them, the glow of a torch. Twelve resisted the urge to slink to the back of the cell and instead pushed her face against the bars, straining to get a better view down the dark corridor.

“Who’s there?” she called, relieved that she sounded confident, imperious even. “Why am I locked up down here?” Beneath the bars, she twisted her fingers into trembling fists.