That’s him. Only … it’s a bit of a secret. With my position as head of security here, there’s a risk of people thinking our relationship is … inappropriate. That we might be compromised.

Riley and Arryn … He’s the one who found her when she was at her lowest. He’s the one who kept her from doing the unspeakable. He’s the one who helped give her a place and a purpose in life.

But he is definitely not one of the Remnants.

Inappropriate and compromised. Two valid descriptors.

Everyone is lying to you, Six-Eight-Four. Everyone.

Hurt and anger flare within me, as Ward’s warning again proves true. Even if Arryn never lied to me, she misdirected me. And not just in making me believe her boyfriend—my brother—was an inhabitant of the catacombs, but with whatever happened between us and Enzo, too.

And I’m past the point where I’m willing to wait in the dark for answers.

Gliding purposefully toward them, they’re too lost in their kiss to hear me approach until I’m pulling myself up onto the ledge and rising before them. I don’t care that I’m wearing only a swimsuit and water is cascading from me onto the cavern floor. As they break apart from each other with stunned looks, I place my hands on my hips and demand, “Someone had better start talking. Right now.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

“Lyss,” my brother breathes, my name like a prayer on his lips.

I’m not sure how, but I manage to maintain my composure and return, “Riley.”

He takes a step toward me, but no matter how much I want him to close the distance between us, I shuffle backward, not yet ready to let go of my anger, my confusion, my fear.

“I want an explanation,” I say, looking between the two of them.

Arryn appears terrified, her face pale even in the limited light of the room. “It’s not what it looks like.”

I raise an eyebrow. “What it looks like is that I caught you kissing the guy who, just yesterday, you told me you didn’t know.”

She shakes her head. “I didn’t tell you that.”

“You did.”

“When you asked me if I’d seen him before, I said yes.”

I try to recall our exact conversation, and purse my lips when I realize how well she played me. “You only mentioned Luna Park. Nothing more.”

She shrugs unapologetically. “You’re the one who left it at that.”

She’s not wrong. But now I wonder how many other times I’ve been led to believe one thing when she really meant something else.

“You’ve known each other for years,” I say. “He’s the person who first told you about Speakers.”