I looked back at Jane.

“You know what I liked about you?” she asked. Her voice was quieter, more guarded. She massaged one hand with the other, gazing at her fingers like they were suddenly very interesting.

“My amazing ability to get into trouble?”

Jane smiled. “I’ve been here a long time, and you’ve seen what it’s like. It’s tolerable, and sometimes it can even be fun, but most of the time it’s just boring and depressing. I loved my dupe. I loved her life, and I looked forward to the feedback. And when you showed up, well … I had a lot of feedback while you were with me. It was like I was always at the school.”

I stared at her. Her eyes were tired and her face bore all the marks of years of manual labor and exposure to the elements. But she was happy. No, it was more than happy. Content. It was an emotion that I didn’t know if I’d ever felt, a state I’d never been in.

I kissed her.

Her lips were soft and warm, and she turned and leaned into me. I touched her face, my hands on her freckled cheeks and running through her hair.

She put her hands around my shoulders, pulling me closer.

I wrapped her in my arms, kissing her cheek and then holding her tight against me.

But when I opened my eyes, pulling back to kiss her again lightly, something was wrong. It wasn’t with her. She grinned back, the happiest I’d ever seen her. The contentment from her eyes was now written all over her face.

But something was wrong with me. Because when I leaned back to look at her, I was almost startled. Like I didn’t expect it to be Jane. Like I didn’t want it to be her.

“If I remember right,” Jane said, our faces only inches apart, “I should probably watch my back about now.”

I smiled, though I could feel my stomach dropping. I looked behind her. “All clear.”

“Good.” She pulled me close and laid her head on my shoulder.

I let out a long, tired breath. “I have to say, I’m impressed. You’re the first person I’ve ever met who can joke about how she was beaten to death.”

She laughed and turned again to face the fire. I put my arm around her waist, pulling her against me as we watched the flames. But it still didn’t feel right, and I knew exactly why.

“I need to ask you something,” I said.

She took a breath. “I wish it could wait.”

“I don’t think it can.”

She put her hand on mine. “Don’t do this again.”

“What?”

Her tone was serious now, the life and contentment gone. Even her hand felt cold. “When you kissed me before—when you kissed my dupe—it didn’t end well.” She laughed quietly. “And I’m not talking about being murdered.”

“You tried to get me to stay,” I said.

There was a long pause. After several seconds, she finally spoke. “I’m glad you didn’t stay there. I’m glad you came here.”

I nodded, trying to think of what to say next. I liked Jane. I liked her a lot. But she wasn’t Becky.

“So ask me,” Jane went on, a slight edge in her voice.

“I don’t know what to ask,” I finally said.

Lily appeared at the gate, walking into the courtyard carrying a shoe box. As she approached us, she raised her eyebrows and smiled. Then she reached into the box, pulled out something wrapped in cellophane, and tossed one to each of us.

“Cupcakes,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Just came up in the commissary’s elevators. I guess this is Maxfield saying, ‘Sorry we killed your friends. Have a cupcake.’”

It wasn’t a typical breakfast, but I tore mine open. The food in here was much more basic than what we’d had at the school, and I hadn’t eaten anything sugary in days.

“Benson was looking for you,” Jane said.

She laughed. “Looks like he found you first.”

Jane blushed and focused on her cupcake.

Lily’s eyes met mine, and I gave her a look indicating that we needed to talk somewhere else.

“They’re divvying up the food,” Lily said. “You ought to head over there before the good stuff runs out.”

Jane took a bite of the chocolate cake. It was factory-made, mass-produced stuff, but as Jane ate it you’d think it had come from a five-star restaurant. She licked a stray bit of frosting from her lip and smiled at me.

“You want to go?”

“You go,” I said, and leaned forward to check my wet socks. “I’m going to change clothes.”

She took another bite of cupcake and stood. For a moment, a mask of seriousness crossed her face. She knew what I was thinking. She knew what I was going to do to her. Again.

“Don’t go anywhere,” she said, her voice artificially cheerful.

I nodded.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

So, you and Jane, huh?”

Lily plopped down on a bench in the meeting room and set the box of treats on the floor beside her. I stood at the window, watching people wander over toward the commissary.

No one had cleaned this room since the events of last night. Some benches were shoved to the wall, and others overturned. The sheets of fabric—all of Birdman’s meticulous, paranoid notes—were scattered on the floor. No one cared anymore. I picked up one of them, looking at the detailed map of the underground complex. Notes marked the items in the room, the color of the paint, the places where guards usually stood.

I shrugged.

“Does Becky know?”

“If she doesn’t already, she will soon.”

“Did you bail on her, or did she bail on you?” Lily asked. She wasn’t even looking at me—all of her packaged food was lined up in rows on the bench in front of her, orderly and categorized.

“Both?” I said, leaning back against the cold adobe wall. “I don’t know. She bailed on me first, but I deserved it. I don’t want to talk about it.”

Lily selected a row of granola bars and began organizing them by flavor. She was either obsessive or bored.

“Then what did you want to talk about?”

“You told me that Birdman wasn’t trying to escape, that Shelly was.”

She nodded.

“I want in,” I said.

“You heard the rules,” Lily said with a sardonic laugh. “No more groups.”

“I think if we’re trying to escape, it’s okay to break that rule.”

She held the box to the edge of the bench and swept all her goodies into it. “First, I can’t get you in Shelly’s group, because I’m not even in it.”

“Then how do you know it exists?”

“Just observation. Birdman grilled me about the underground complex, but Shelly grilled me about the forest—about where I’d gotten to and how I was caught.”

I looked back out the window. From here, I couldn’t quite see the ford.

A tall brown-haired girl was alone, sitting cross-legged in the road.

“Someone’s getting feedback,” I said.

Lily moved to the window. “Eliana. Interesting.”

“I heard a lot of people are now,” I said.

Eliana was far away, so it was hard to be sure, but I thought she was crying.

“They are,” Lily said. “Maxfield’s starting up the school again.”