I shake my head, cutting her off. I want to tell her that I’m not used to being loved—I’m terrified of it. But she’s my twin—I can’t keep her at arm’s length. It will be too easy for her to sneak past my defenses because she’s so much like me.

“I’d like that,” I finally manage to squeak out. I turn and see the relief on her face. “I’ve missed you,” I add. “I’m sorry for leaving you.” A lightness falls over me from saying it out loud, for finally apologizing.

She waves a hand through the air, brushing away my words, erasing the need for apologies, guilt and regret. I watch her fingers, thinking how alike we are, down to the smallest details. Down to the shape of our nails, our gestures and facial expressions. It’s strange to see it after being apart for so long but at the same time there’s a comfort in being near her again.

In knowing there’s someone in the world who understands and loves me.

“We’re sisters,” she says simply, as if those words can seal the bond of all the mistakes of our past. As if it means that regardless of everything else in life we’ll have each other, always.

“Yes,” I say. “We’re sisters.”

Chapter XXIII

Over the next few days my sister and I continue to search all the buildings we can sneak into. We find nothing: no hint of a tunnel access or other inspiration for finding a way off the island.

During this time I don’t see Catcher—not up close. Every now and then I may glimpse him unloading supplies from the cable car and then heading back into the Dark City. He looks more exhausted and worn with each trip.

I miss him.

My sister and I find a few odds and ends while scavenging through the abandoned buildings. She’s collected a mound of old blankets and clothes she’s been cutting up and arranging into a quilt, and after watching her for an afternoon, I’ve joined in, though it’s clear I’m not skilled or detail-oriented enough to be any good.

Elias has been spending much more time at home with us, which means our movements have become limited—he hates the idea of us going outside and possibly stirring up Recruiter ire. While my sister seems content to sit and sew day after day, I’m not used to being cooped up inside. I can only stitch so much binding, and finally I tell them I’m headed to the roof for fresh air.