I wonder if she’s ever been cast aside. I wonder what it takes to believe in someone else’s promises.

Clearing my throat, I push myself into the main living area where they’ve been standing. They jolt apart, my sister blushing prettily as Elias stammers good morning.

“We were worried about you,” Elias says, and then my sister gasps, “Your cheek!” Her voice high-pitched, breathy. “What happened?”

I twitch my head, covering my face with my hair. “It’s nothing,” I mumble, moving toward a high table where a loaf of bread’s been cut and laid out. I shove a piece in my mouth, thankful that it means I can’t talk.

Elias comes over, spins me around to face him. Tilting my chin, he lets the light from the window wash over the bruise. “Who hit you?” He grinds the words out between clenched teeth.

I stare at him, astonished he doesn’t know. “Some Recruiter.” It should be obvious, but I can tell he doesn’t want to believe it. I’m furious he didn’t realize this would happen—two women on an island full of brutal Recruiters was bound to lead to trouble.

Finally he turns away, grips the back of a chair so tightly that his knuckles burn a bright white. There’s a woodstove in the corner of the room and a log inside shifts with a thump, sending sparks through the narrow grate.

“Ox promised you’d both be safe,” Elias says. “Do you know the Recruiter’s name? I’ll have to go tell him about this.”

I laugh, tiny bread crumbs lodging in my throat so that I end up coughing. “Ox was there,” I wheeze. “He could have stopped it but he let it happen.” A cruel part of me revels in the way Elias’s face drains of color as he realizes how ill-formed his treachery of Catcher has become.

“I’ll talk to him,” he says.

I shrug. “Ask him about the death cage while you’re at it.”

My sister’s pouring a mug of hot water but freezes when I say this. “Death cage?”

I nod, letting any humor fall from my face. “We’re not safe here. They’re killing people for sport. I saw it happen last night.”

“We’re safer here than in the Dark City,” Elias counters, starting to pace around the room. My sister finishes pouring the tea and with shaking hands pushes it toward me.

I step in front of him, blocking his way. “Did you know about it?” I ask. His expression closes down, turns flat. Astonishment crowds my thoughts.

“You knew,” I whisper. I press my fingers to my temples, not wanting to believe it. Wanting him to deny it. But he merely clenches his jaw and stays silent.

“All the Soulers they’ve been rounding up—that’s what they’re doing to them. It’s wrong. It’s cruel.”