“Pine was a bit more . . . difficult.”

Caledonia couldn’t help but laugh. She was beginning to understand that she might never be able to predict Pine. He always seemed to move in the direction opposite her instinct. Still, he wasn’t fickle. Beneath the seemingly disparate choices was a person with a clear sense of himself and the world. Just because she didn’t yet understand his compass didn’t mean it wasn’t there.

“He’s loyal and not always quick to change paths once he’s chosen one. We gave him that name because he’s as sturdy as any tree in the forest we call home,” Triple continued. “Sturdy, but not immovable. Those trees bend and grow and so does he.”

“That’s . . . a really lovely name,” Caledonia said, surprised. “Did you all name yourselves?”

“Mostly. It’s important to us that we are able to choose who we are and what we will and won’t do.”

“Because that’s what Aric took from you,” Caledonia added, understanding settling in more quickly now. “Choice.”

Triple hunched her shoulders against the cold wind at her back. “Once you’re hooked on Silt, you have no capacity to choose any course of action but the one that will ensure you get your next dose. It sometimes feels like you have a choice, but it all stems from a need so strong you can’t fight it. At least not alone.”

This was what Caledonia had known about Bullets her entire life. They were dangerous because the thing they needed most in the world was carefully controlled. If you stood between them and that drug, they’d go straight through you to get it. It had always reminded Caledonia of a riptide, running breezily along the shore. If you were in it, you could swim at an incredible pace, much faster than would be possible on your own. But if you needed to change directions, you’d find yourself beating against that same steely tide, unable to make any kind of progress. Soon, you’d be so exhausted that you’d let that current carry you along without a fight. To get out, you needed someone who could reach in without losing themselves in the process.

“It couldn’t have been easy for Sledge to break his own addiction without Venn finding out,” Caledonia mused.

“Venn knew. They were friends. As much as any Bullet is capable of friendship.”

At least five questions surfaced in Caledonia’s mind, but she only asked one: “Is that why he didn’t kill him?”

Triple flinched at the question, pressing her lips together as though to stop an answer that had come too readily. “He was supposed to give Venn an overdose. Take him out before we made our move.”

“But he didn’t?”

“Couldn’t.”