“Tilda,” Tipp said. “I saw the w-way you looked at her today when you were t-telling your story. That was great, b-by the way. You never talk a-about your parents.”

“There’s not much to tell,” Kiva said, trying for a dismissive tone, if only to ease the ache she felt whenever she thought of the mother and father she’d lost. Her sister and brothers, too.

Tipp knew better than to press, so he went back to his original question. “What is it a-about her? About T-Tilda? Is it still just what she r-represents—that you d-don’t want another prisoner to d-die, not if you c-can help it? That’s w-what you said, right?”

Seeing his curiosity, Kiva found herself answering, “It’s that, yes. But . . .” She paused, then quietly admitted, “She also reminds me of someone I used to know.”

Tipp turned to face her fully, his blue eyes suddenly lined with tears. “I w-wasn’t sure if you’d noticed. I didn’t w-want to say anything, afraid to make a b-big deal out of it.”

Kiva dropped the food she was mixing aquifer moss into and moved a step toward him. “Tipp—”

“I didn’t r-realize when she first arrived, but once you c-cleaned her up . . .” Tipp said, quickly wiping his face. “She r-reminds me so m-much of Mama.”

Kiva opened her arms in invitation, and he climbed out of the rat pen into her embrace. His tears didn’t fall, but his sadness still enveloped them.

“Ineke would be so proud of you,” Kiva told him quietly. “You know that, right? So proud.”

For the life of her, Kiva had no idea how Tilda reminded Tipp of his departed mother, other than that they were of similar ages and had dark hair. Perhaps that was all that was needed to bring the memories to the forefront of Tipp’s mind. The same had been true for Kiva after her brother had been killed; for years, every young boy she’d seen had reminded her of Kerrin.

“I just . . . I’m really g-glad you care about her,” Tipp said. “Even if I know it’s n-not really Mama, it means a lot to me that you’re d-doing what you can, that you’re trying to help her.” He pushed back from Kiva and shuffled his feet as he admitted, “I know I was upset a-about you taking on her sentence, b-but you did the right thing. And you’re d-d-doing so great with the Ordeals, so I’m sure t-tomorrow will be the same.”

Kiva’s insides gave a lurch at the thought of the Trial the next day, and then they tightened even further when she realized that, if she managed to survive this one and then the last, she would be free to leave Zalindov. She and Tilda and Tipp, all of them together.

But they’d be leaving  Jaren and Naari behind. And Mot, too.