Aldo takes a deep breath. “Time to find out if we made the cut,” he says.

My vision narrows. My muscles tense, as though preparing to flee or fight. But there is nothing for my body to do but wait.

12

Then

THE girl forgot, but the body knew.

The body knew hunger. A constant ache in the pit of the stomach. The desperate pleasure of licking a dirty plate just for the taste of food.

The body knew loneliness. The craving for comfort, the search for any sign of kindness. A smile from a stranger in the market was sustenance for weeks.

The body knew pain, bruise and blood and needle.

The body knew danger. The casual slap, the thunderclap of a sudden blow, the grip with no escape.

The body waited.

The girl forgot. But the body would always remember.

13

Now

DELUCA looks at his parchment and calls out four names: “Recruits Sancho, Itzal, Beto, and Iván. Come with me.”

Iván rises from the table, face displaying both incredulity and relief.

“Congratulations, Iván,” I say.

He nods acknowledgment, and follows the others from the dining hall.

“No surprises there,” Aldo says.

“I didn’t expect Iván to be in the first group,” I say. “I thought DeLuca hated him.”

Aldo shrugs. “Iván is the brother of a Quorum lord. Not to mention pretty enough to make an angel cry.”

“I thought maybe it had something to do with him being well trained and in excellent shape.”

“That too.”

It seems as though we wait forever—though it’s probably only a few minutes—before DeLuca returns to claim another group. This time, he calls Pedrón’s name, along with the other army recruits, Andrés and Luca, and one of Valentino’s remaining ducklings. “Oh, thank God,” Pedrón says, rising from the table, and I’m surprised to discover he had anything to worry about. He runs his hand through his short-cropped hair and grins down at me. “See you in there, Red,” he says, and I hope he’s right.

The next group contains most of the Basajuan contingent, including the taller Arturo. The one after that sweeps up all of Valentino’s remaining lackeys, along with the shorter Arturo. My hopes dwindle along with the recruits still seated in the dining hall. Soon only six of us remain, including me, Aldo, the two boys who couldn’t complete the log roll, and two others.

DeLuca returns. He pauses a long moment, staring down at us. He’s torturing us on purpose.

At last he says, “Recruit Aldo. Recruit Red. Come with me. The rest of you may return home. Her Imperial Majesty thanks you for your service.”

Aldo’s breath leaves him in a whoosh. I stand up so fast I knock my knee against the table. As we hurry after DeLuca, I spare a thought for the boys left behind. I feel terrible for them. And so relieved they were cut instead of me.