Darius had laughed at him once, back when he explained the digital computer he’d been designing. Still trying so hard to prove you’re more than your inheritance, huh? He always cut too close to the bone. Maybe he had been striving for acceptance, for something that would always be out of reach. In the end, it did so much worse than that—devastation he couldn’t begin to undo.

Maybe that was why he wanted so desperately to help this weird bunch that burned down a Nazi base. The same reason he’d fled from Tulsa and jumped out of a goddamned plane. Because he wanted to prove his usefulness, his ability to do the right thing. But once again, he couldn’t shake the feeling it was all about to blow up in his face.

Their destination was Hallenberg, a few towns east of Siegen. They’d planned to meet up with a Siegen shopkeeper in the Magpie network after nightfall, but instead of the stifling silence of curfew, Siegen was practically shimmering with activity as military vehicles and Gestapo trucks raced toward the administrative compound. The safest thing was to head to their next stop in Hallenberg, and they were all ready to put the smoldering wreckage as far behind them as they could. Phillip was itching to actually get to work on their mission. But he was here to help people, right? And these disasters sure seemed like they needed help. Anyone who’d pulled down the Nazis’ ire was okay in his book.

“You will leave first thing in the morning,” Simone told the newcomers. “Every last Gestapo thug will be hunting for you, and we don’t need that kind of heat.”

“And why not?” Rebeka asked. “What are you doing that’s so important?”

“Nothing that concerns you—” Simone started.

“No one who saw our faces is still alive.”

It was the first time Phillip had heard Daniel, the German boy, speak up. He was even taller than his sister, rivaling Simone for height, but where Simone had the sturdy muscles of someone who worked with their whole body, Daniel looked like yarn cast onto a wire frame. And Phillip didn’t need his first aid training to tell that the blood on Daniel’s clothes and face, drying purplish in the starlight, was not his own.

They marched for eight kilometers, ten. Liam and Daniel spoke in hushed tones, ignoring Simone’s glowers, but Rebeka only stared into the darkness when Phillip tried to catch her eye. Small talk made him feel wound up like a transistor coil, all nervous potential and too much surface space. He was used to bumbling through champagne chatter at his parents’ parties. She deserved better than that.

“You weren’t afraid of the monsters,” she said softly. Her accent made it hard to tell whether she thought that was a good thing.

“Then I guess I’m a good actor.”