“I wanted to call you, but they wouldn’t let me. Mom took my phone,” she starts, that smile morphing into a frown as tears spring from her eyes. “I wanted to tell you about Dad.”

“Shh.” I pull her in for another hug. “It’s okay, sweetheart. You’re not to blame. I’m here now.” I want to reassure her somehow, but I don’t know what my presence here will do for her.

We separate again, and I tuck a strand of hair back into a hairpin. The nuns won’t excuse a hair out of place, even considering the situation.

“Are you okay?” I ask, looking her over. Given how Abel’s been with me, I want to be sure he hasn’t raised a hand to her.

“I’m scared for Dad. Mom and Abel won’t tell me anything. I can go see him after school today, though.”

“Abel’s taking me to see him this morning, and I’ll talk to the doctors. I’ll find out what’s going on and tell you. I promise.”

She nods, wipes her tears. “Ivy?” she asks hesitantly

“Yes?”

“Is it true? You’ll have to marry that man?”

I don’t know how to answer her.

“I’ve heard rumors, Ivy. He’s deformed. A monster.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Everyone knows about the explosion. Everyone knows he’s hardly been seen in public since.”

I know that much too.

“You can’t do it. You have to find some way to get out of it.”

“It’s not as simple—”

“Evangeline!”

I exhale in relief at my mother’s interruption because I’ve heard the same rumors. I know about the explosion where so many sons of The Society were lost. Where Santiago’s own father and brother perished.

And although Santiago did survive, he didn’t quite walk away uninjured. There are rumors about what happened to him and what he did to cover up his scars. Talk of how hard he’s become, how bitter.

I remember my brief first encounter with him took place in my dad’s study. I’d given him the gift dad had bought him, and as I’d dumped the box on his lap, I'd told him what I’d thought of him. I’d been just mad enough about everything to blurt out the truth, that I didn’t like the school The Society made me go to because I knew it was him or his family who’d arranged for it as a thank-you gift to my father for tutoring Santiago. And I hadn’t stopped there. I told him I didn’t like him, either.

He’d just sort of smiled. I guess I remember because of my dad’s reaction. He’d gotten angry with me. Told me I was being disrespectful. But I’d gotten the feeling Santiago had found it almost funny.