“I don’t want to be here,” I said again. “But I am, and—I have to help.” I was shocking myself, but it was all true. Something inside me wouldn’t let me go back to the Schoolhouse and study. I couldn’t deny that terrible coughing, or the blood—not anymore.

He crossed his arms. “And Jones—what will she say?”

I looked down, biting my lip. He thought he had me, and maybe he did. She’d sent me here to spy. If I stayed and helped care for the sick, my cover would be forfeit. She would punish me harshly. Unless—I found out exactly what Hosea and the Director were up to regarding the New Seed vote. In that case, she might forgive anything. That was it! I would stay and help the sick and, at the same time, get information—premium information—for Jones.

“I’m going to stay,” I said, straightening my shoulders. “You can drag me to my room, but I’ll just sneak out again. You know I will.”

Robin appeared beside us. In her hand was the pair of gloves Hosea had discarded when he’d come after me. “Hosea, come quick,” Robin said.

“I’m coming too,” I announced.

Hosea took the gloves from Robin, slipped them on and pointed a finger at me. “We’ll talk about this later. For now, you don’t move.” He hurried toward the warehouse.

I leapt after him, only to jerk to a halt, midair. Something had caught the back of my pallium, tearing it from my shoulders. I fell to the ground and looked up, dirt-faced, to see William, the giant, looming over me, his club slung in a holster at his waist. I scrambled away just as his hand closed around my neck.

“You stay here,” he said.

“No!” I twisted free. I managed to run a few feet before he caught me again, steely fingers fastening on the back of my aura.

“You stay here,” he said.

He tightened his fist and lifted me from the ground to dangle three feet in the air. I was eye level with him for several seconds as he inspected me, taking in every feature. Suddenly, the fabric of my old dress gave way and I came loose.

My head slammed against the ground. I felt the night air on my back where my clothes were torn. My knee was bruised and my ribs stung. As soon as I was able, I rolled to my side, ignoring my ripped dress. On my hands and knees, I scurried away.

I glanced back to check his progress.

Surprise. He wasn’t following me. He stood there like a statue of himself, fist raised, a patch of my dress still clutched in his hand.