I don’t look at Natalie as I speak. I start my Jeep and peel out, circling her as I leave. My tires move over the gravel road easily, but I find I can’t release my breath until I hit the even surface of the pavement. Natalie’s voice grates against my eardrums, and I set my teeth tighter.

No matter the situation, Natalie has to appear like she cares more than anyone else. She is pretty much viewed as a saint at school and the Compound, and she likes to maintain that reputation.

I travel about five miles down a narrow two-lane road crowded with overgrown trees before turning off toward my house. The gravel pops beneath my tires, and I come to a slow stop. I live on the outskirts of Rayon. My house is a two-story cottage with wood siding and leaded-glass windows. The roof comes to a point in two places, and my mother keeps the garden against the house manicured so not a single shrub rises above the windowsills. This house and the land belong to my father’s family, and it’s been passed down each generation.

It’s just another thing I don’t want to inherit from my father.

I head inside. Even before the door closes, my mom’s voice reaches me. “Shy, is that you?”

“Hey, Mom!” I call back as I take off my shoes in the entryway. My mom’s as sweet as sugar until you track dirt on her floor. She appears as I start to move into the kitchen. I look nothing like her. She’s Irish through and through: red hair, green eyes, a light dusting of freckles, and an accent as thick as the woods around our house. She’s also one of the best medics in our Compound, but she’s been suspended from duty until further notice for basically being a good person. It’s stupid, and it makes me angry just thinking about it.

I have a feeling that’s another reason Dad’s kept his distance…because he’s embarrassed.

“Shy.” She leans forward to press a kiss to my cheek while simultaneously handing me one of her homemade pizza pockets. Nothing—and I mean nothing—frozen comes into this household. “How was your day?”

“Good,” I say quickly and move past her into the kitchen to grab a glass of water. “How was yours?”

She sighs. “Busy, but that will change soon. I hired a new agent today.”

“Oh?” I ask, taking a seat at the table and a big bite of pizza pocket. “Who’s the lucky one?”

By day, Mom’s a real estate agent—the best, they say.

“Her name is Jayne Silby.”

I was only half listening before. Now Mom has my whole attention.