We both made our way through the trees, and I paused when I was about to pass the front of the car. His eyes locked on mine, and for a brief moment, I wanted to launch my fist in the car.

“Come on, fucker!” Jordan called out ahead. “Or you don’t eat.”

I dragged my eyes away from him, jogging up the withered old steps and to the front entrance. It was extra quiet tonight, and I wondered in the back of my mind if it had anything to do with her. I hadn’t even met her yet, nor did I know her, but Jordan was right. There was something about her that Skully needed—no—wanted. I just hoped it wasn’t what I thought it would be.

Making my way through the hallway, I turned my head just in time to see Skully sitting beneath the cross in the chapel. Bright red lights shone through stained glass windows, and the bench chairs were pushed up a little too close together since the space was small. In the background, I could hear cutlery clinking and the distant smell of roasted chicken, but I knew he would want to see me.

I took one step through the entry.

“Close the door.”

I paused before reaching back and closing both of the swinging doors. Turning back around, I took the steps toward him, head cast down enough to not show my eyes. Also, where the fuck did he put her? Was she in here?

I counted the steps that echoed through the cold space until I was just behind his bench. Lowering myself down, I finally raised my head. “You wanted to see me?”

“Hangman…” One name, one meaning. I didn’t hate it, even though I knew I should. I just hoped that what he was doing with this girl, wasn’t what he usually did. “I got a new drop tonight.” I leaned back in my chair, eager to listen. I think he liked that about me over the other kids. I didn’t mind listening. I preferred it. If you listened close enough, people always told you who they were. “This one is different, though. She’s not for product.” My brows hit my hairline. I felt a sudden relief that that was the case. “Once a week, she will drop on our doorstep until she turns seventeen.”

“Seventeen?” I answered, squeezing my fists. “And how old is she right now?”

“Twelve.”

I winced. I shouldn’t. It never mattered to me before. I was named Hangman for a reason, I did my job expertly, even for all of my thirteen years. He knew it, I knew it.

“When she turns a certain age, you will be collected. You may choose one to go with you as your sibling.” Poppy. Instantly knew I would take her.