The curiosity recedes. Tentative appreciation hardens into dark fury that clouds his face and flares his nostrils. He grabs me by the shoulders, dropping his gun and kicking the wheeled table behind him. “Have you heard nothing I have said? Misplaced loyalty? Loyalty to your sister is the only thing you should feel in this world.” His grip tightens, bruising me, and he shakes me like a child. “You should thank the heavens every day that she is still alive. That you were given this gift of being a twin, and a bond deeper than anything!”

He shakes me again, and my head bangs against rock. Stars crack across my vision, and I see Angela move in fits and starts as though she too feels the pain tearing across my skull.

“You will never know what you are missing until it is too late!” he roars with emotion.

Angela’s leg continues to flail as clarity returns to my eyes. The table, the one holding Seb’s supplies, has been pushed backward during his lunge forward—into Angela’s reach.

“What if she’s not worth the sacrifice?” I press on, giving Angela the best shot I can. “What if—”

Angela stretches for the aluminum tray. Her chains clang, and Seb turns at the noise, but I cry out, “Baptiste will never know! He’ll never know how devoted you are in his death, how much you loved him, just like my sister will never understand me.”

Seb slams me into the dirt, looming over me. Red, bloodshot eyes plead in outrage, and his lips pull back over his teeth. “Do you not see? The missing brother in my life has been my greatest ghost. I would make any sacrifice for him, even in his death. You have no idea the loss of a sibling, a missing sister from your life—”

Quickly, Angela withdraws the scalpel from the tray. She sits back and slices the plastic that binds her ankles in a swift upward motion. Placing the scalpel between her heels, she rubs the zip tie of her wrists back and forth, then shifts and presses the blade beneath her knee, sliding her wrists up and down until the plastic snaps. She stands.

“Misplaced loyalty,” Seb says again, spitting the words, tears filling his eyes. “Shows how little you—”

Angela doesn’t hesitate. She carves the scalpel through the air and stabs Seb’s lower spine, again and again. Blood spurts as he releases an animal scream. He arches backward, then falls off me, his body contracting wildly, his hands scrabbling at the wound.

Angela slices through the ties binding my ankles and wrists, then whirls back to where Seb hunches over in the corner. I get to my feet, blood oozing from my new tattoo, entranced by the scene. Wrapping an arm around Seb, Angela rams the scalpel into his back again, tearing a soprano scream from his chest.