My skin was knitted together, smooth and decorated with scars that proved I’d fought back. And survived, unbroken. My mind was a different story. It was an open, tender wound, raw and throbbing, clamoring with the battle of now and then. I lifted my chin and glared into my own eyes, seeing nothing but her face. “The next time I see you,” I whispered, “I’m going to kill you. I won’t hesitate.”

I turned away and finished getting ready for school. I’d awakened a few hours ago from Raphael’s special brand of dreamless sleep, healed and well rested, at least on the outside. The Guard house was dark and silent. Malachi, Jim, and Henry were still in the field, and I slipped away in the night, too ashamed to see them.

Some Captain I was. They were better off without me.

Which is why I was so surprised when I found them parked outside Diane’s house as I left for school. Jim hopped out of the passenger seat. Malachi sat in the back. His eyes slid over me for an electric second, but his gaze didn’t reach my face before he turned away. Henry kept his eyes trained on the street in front of him.

“Captain,” Jim said as he joined me on Diane’s front steps. His hair was combed, and he’d shaved. He looked like the all-American poster boy. His blue eyes skimmed up and down my body. Not in a checking-me-out way, though. More in an I-heard-you-were-mortally-wounded way. When he was finished with his assessment, he squared his shoulders. “I wanted to ask you something. Can I …” He looked down at himself, and that was when I noticed he had a backpack slung over his shoulder. “Can I go to school with you?”

“Sure,” I said, watching Henry pull away from the curb, carrying Malachi away from me. “It’s a good idea, since the Mazikin may be after some of our classmates. What kind of school were you in before you … you know.” Before you died.

He frowned. “I’ve never been to a school.”

“How come?” He’d never talked about the life he led before he became a Guard. Neither had Henry, actually, and I hadn’t wanted to pry. But if he was going to join me at school, I needed to know he wasn’t going to cause more trouble than he was worth. “Were you raised in a time when there weren’t schools or something?”

“No, I was raised in a place where there aren’t schools.”

“And where’s that?”

He looked squarely at me. “I grew up in the Countryside.”

My mouth dropped open. “Huh?”

Jim clutched the strap of his backpack. “What do you think happens to those who die in childhood? Or as babies?”

“I never really thought about it,” I said quietly. “You died … young, then?”