I don’t respond. I slump down in my seat and watch the city get taller and taller, the architecture more interesting. There are playhouses, shops and beautiful restaurants all wrapped in glass. Some of the buildings shine so bright in the sun I have to shield my eyes. Cars clog the roads below us, their honks reaching us up on the track. No place could be more different from Paradise, Ohio. Our train stops and starts up again through two more stations, then Nine tells me to stand up. We’re next. A minute later we’re walking east on Chicago Avenue, each of us carrying our Chest under an arm. Lake Michigan is straight ahead.

When the crowd around us thins, Nine says, ‘Sandor loved Chicago. And he thought it was smart to hide in plain sight in a city like this. No chance of sticking out, always a crowd to disappear into, that kind of thing. I mean, think about it, where are you more anonymous than in a busy city?’

‘Henri would never have allowed it. Being in a city like this would have freaked him out. He hated being anywhere he couldn’t keep an eye on anyone who might have an eye on us. On me.’

‘And that’s why Sandor was the best Cêpan that ever lived. He had rules, of course. First and most important, “don’t be stupid.” ’ Nine sighs. Amazingly, he has no idea how infuriating, how insulting this talk about Sandor is.

I’m pissed and I don’t care who knows it. ‘Oh, yeah, if Sandor was so great, why did I find you in a Mogadorian prison cell?’ I feel horrible the minute I say it. Nine misses Sandor, and we’re in the last place they spent real time together, where Sandor told Nine he was safe. I know how powerful that kind of assurance is.

Nine stops dead, right in the middle of a busy corner with people streaming past us. He steps up to me until our noses are inches apart. His fists are clenched, not to mention his teeth. ‘You found me in that cell because made a mistake. It was my mistake, not Sandor’s. And you know what? Where’s your Cêpan? You think yours was so much better than mine? Wake up, idiot! They’re both dead, so I really doubt one was so much better than the other.’

I feel bad for what I said but I’m sick of Nine trying to bully me. I push him away. ‘Back off, Nine. I mean it. Just. Back. Off. And stop talking to me like I’m your little brother.’