I stare at her. At Conall on the floor, his body draining of blood. I know Dove’s as good as dead. The infection’s blazing inside her, shutting down her organs. It will kill her if she doesn’t die from blood loss first, and either way she’ll turn Unconsecrated.

She’ll hunger for me and the living on this island just as her husband did. Just as they all do. I think of how I felt locked in the kennel, terrified I’d never see the sky again or breathe fresh air.

I know she feels the same, but if I let her go free I’m setting that loose on the island. I’m putting everyone including my sister and Elias in danger.

Yet I can’t kill her. Not now. She’s still alive. She’s still human. It’s a line Catcher’s crossed but that I never have. Not even to grant mercy.

“Annah,” she whispers again. Her arm trembles with the effort of keeping her hand raised, held out for me to grasp.

I’ve never considered myself a cruel person. Apathetic and ambivalent, maybe, but never outright inhumane. I’ve tried to take care of those around me or at the very least, tried not to cause them harm.

And yet here there’s no easy answer. There’s no easy choice.

“Annah?” Catcher asks softly, standing next to me. He holds out the machete, its blade still slick.

My breath burns hot inside me and my heart pounds in my ears. It’s not fair that this all falls to me. I’m not supposed to be the one deciding someone else’s fate. I’m not the judge of what’s right and wrong.

I imagine slipping my fingers into Dove’s. Her pulse under mine, the life still flowing inside her. But it’s not her hand I’m gripping, it’s the cold metal of the cage gate. When I swing it closed, the hinges protest and cry and it latches shut with such an indifferent jolt that I wince.

Dove lowers her hand. She kneels in the middle of the locked cage, staring at me. I want her to understand this decision. I want her to understand that in this world there are no easy choices, only choices that have to be made.

“Don’t leave me like this, Annah,” she begs.

I start backing away from her. Once you begin determining someone else’s fate, how can you ever stop?

“Annah.” She tries to shout but her voice cracks. “Don’t let me be like them! Annah! Don’t do this! Don’t leave me here! Please, Annah! Please!”

Her voice follows me as I stumble up the steps. “They’re going to turn me into a monster, Annah! Don’t do this to me! You have to help me! Annah!”