“He brought me something as well.” She holds out a thick book. I take it from her, running my fingers over the cracked plastic that once protected the cover. I flip through pages of diagrams of buildings and structures that make no sense.

“Architecture,” she says, unable to hide the excitement in her voice. “It’s about building things.” She takes the book from me and sits on the bed, feet tucked underneath her. “I’ve always wanted to build things and he remembered.”

I wrap the scarf around my arms, lift the edge of it to my nose as if I could still catch a trace of Catcher. “He’s thoughtful like that.” I wonder how he found these things. How long he must have searched. I wonder why he didn’t wake me up. Why he didn’t say anything to me. I think about him sneaking into my room in the night, of me asleep and never knowing.

He was right here, could have stood at the end of my bed, and he said nothing. It’s clear he’s avoiding me. I pull the coat on, huddling into the heavy folds as if they could protect me from these feelings.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” she says, swiping at my shoulder. “Finish getting dressed—meet me on the roof! We can see how warm that keeps you.”

I’d planned on exploring more of the buildings on this end of the island again, hoping that we missed something in one of the basements. That maybe there’s an entrance to the tunnels after all.

I slide from bed and walk to the window. As if she senses my hesitation my sister comes to stand next to me. Beyond the river the Neverlands smolder and the Dark City lies gray and dormant. Dead continue to spill through the streets. They flounder from the docks into the water and eventually will wash ashore on the Sanctuary island.

“Where do you think they’re housing the Soulers?” I ask, staring at the wall and wondering how many Sweepers were just on the other side last night, protecting us and getting nothing in return.

“I don’t know,” my sister whispers softly. “There were a lot of rooms in the basement of the headquarters,” she says. “That’s where they kept me.” She hasn’t talked about the time she was imprisoned before the rest of us got here. Even now her face is drawn thinking about it.

“There were others down there too. I knew there were, but …”

“But what?” I prod.

“Sometimes they took them away and never brought them back,” she finishes. She crosses her arms, shivering at the memory. “I never asked what they were doing with all those people. I didn’t want to know.”