Ian obviously sensed his back-the-eff-up vibe. “Aden ran off last night,” he said slowly, considering his words. “And I … um, knew that Lela is familiar with the area, so I texted her a few times. I thought she might have some idea where we could look.” He motioned at the entrance to the soup kitchen. “Anyway, I’m here, Teg. What do you want me to do?”

He didn’t mention that we’d seen each other. And he didn’t mention Jim. He probably thought he was protecting me from Malachi’s jealousy. It wasn’t necessary, but it was kind of … nice. I gave him a quick smile as we entered the shelter, and he returned it with dimples.

The shelter was already buzzing with activity. Waves of heat poured from the kitchen, where the volunteers were readying giant pots of soup and stacks of neatly wrapped sandwiches. A ruddy-faced woman in a hairnet waved a spoon at us. “Volunteers?”

When we nodded, she gestured to a bunch of people standing by a long table. “Go sign up if you want credit for community service. And you,” she said, pointing at me. “Get your hair back or put on a hairnet.”

I pulled my all-purpose elastic off my wrist and lashed my hair into a tight ponytail. We joined the group of volunteers, mostly other teenagers and a few parental-looking grown-ups. Henry was there, too, doing an excellent job of pretending he didn’t know us.

We signed in and got a little tutorial on how much food to dish out and how to handle requests and complaints. As soon as the shelter worker was finished talking, a few people filed in from the street, wearing mismatched layers of clothes and wary expressions. Some looked like they’d just stopped in on the way to a day job, but others looked like this was their last chance. There were kids, too, with hollow eyes and solemn faces that reminded me of me, not too long ago. I looked away.

Following the kitchen staff’s orders, Henry, Malachi, and Ian helped bring the pots of soup to the warmers while Tegan and I grabbed bowls and spoons. It didn’t take long for the room to get crowded. The long cafeteria tables that took up half the room were filled to capacity, and several people came in and asked for their food to go. A staff member told us to keep our pace up, that they served over seven hundred meals during every shift. It was barely controlled chaos.

I glanced over at Malachi, who was scanning the mob, frowning. I knew what he was thinking: there were too many people here. And only three Guards when there should have been four. It would be hard to spot suspicious activity … and it would have been nice to have an extra pair of eyes.