The Cage

“To know you, and what you are capable of. There is more to you than the other wards know. Boy Two cares for you, but he doesn’t know you. Not as well as I do.” His fingers curled around the charms. Their bodies were very nearly touching. Her eyes sank closed as his breath whispered against her ear.

 

“A smile can hide so much. A smile can be a lie.” His voice rose and fell oddly. With a start, she realized he was trying to sing—but his voice was rusty and unpracticed; he must never have sung before. It was one of the songs she had written after the bomb threat at her dad’s political rally.

 

Heat radiated from Cassian’s hand, holding on to the necklace, holding on to her.

 

“A smile can make me want to scream, and leave all this behind.”

 

He was singing her words, which she’d never shared with anyone—not even Charlie. Words she’d used to make sense of a life she didn’t fit into anymore. About a little girl who was supposed to spend her whole life smiling, even when she was sad, or scared, or went to prison for a crime she didn’t commit.

 

Her throat burned. She’d been holding her breath. It caught up with her all at once, and she sucked in air. Her chest grazed against his; electricity pulsed and the bone knocked against her leg. The bone. She’d forgotten the femur clutched in her hand.

 

She stepped back, and he released her necklace, and the spell was broken.

 

“Cora—”

 

“Get away from me.” Her voice was a knife. “You’re a liar. We aren’t safe here at all. If you don’t kill us first, then we’ll end up killing each other.”

 

He looked at her like she’d slapped him. His hand flexed at his side, once, twice, and he opened his mouth as though to plead with her. But then he straightened, and the mask returned.

 

“Your safety is of utmost importance to us. The stock algorithm accurately predicts—”

 

“Did the stock algorithm predict what happened with the last groups?”

 

He paused. “There is always a margin of error.”

 

Margin of error, she thought. Such a tidy way to explain eighteen dead bodies.

 

The sun was merciless. The mud tried to swallow her feet. Fear and anger and exhaustion seized her body in a tight fist, and yet the worst of all of it was the way his black eyes shifted to her, always back to her, as though she was different. His pet.

 

I am different, she realized. I’m the only one sane enough to know we’re in danger.

 

“I will personally ensure the safety of everyone in this environment,” Cassian repeated more insistently. “We simply require you to follow a set of basic rules.” He leaned close, and all that emotion came rushing back. He could be tender; he could be cruel too. “It has been twenty-one days, Cora. You have until sunset.”

 

With another swell in pressure, he was gone.

 

Cora sprinted away from the jungle. The ocean taunted her with each crashing wave that moved too slowly, reminding her that nothing was real, not this place, not Cassian’s promise that they were all safe.

 

This is how it begins. She’d been a fool to think she could ever leave the others behind. They would die without her there to keep them sane, and the sand would swallow their bones.

 

She reached town just as the artificial sun dropped another level. She slowed to a walk. The only sound was the jukebox music and the beeping arcade games. No insects trilling, no barking dogs, no traffic or hum of electricity, but fears roared in her head.

 

Ahead, sitting on the porch swing, were Lucky and Nok. She ran for them, about to call out, but then slowed. Nok wore a look Cora had never seen before. She wasn’t hiding behind her pink stripe of hair. She was facing Lucky, one hand on his thigh, purring into his ear.

 

She stopped abruptly.

 

Back in the jungle, Nok’s panties had been tangled in Leon’s sheets. Now she had her hands on Lucky. Cora dropped to her knees and crawled closer, through the marigolds.

 

As much as Cora wanted to trust her, Nok was hiding things.

 

It was time to find out what.

 

 

 

 

 

UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE

 

HarperCollins Publishers

 

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41

 

Cora

 

CORA CROUCHED IN THE marigolds, bone clutched in her hand, as she made out Nok and Lucky’s voices.

 

“I can’t stop thinking about her.” Lucky’s voice was broken.

 

“Poor Lucky,” Nok cooed. “Left all alone.” Cora’s heart started pounding. They were talking about her. “It isn’t you. She’s delusional. She didn’t even believe us when we told her that Earth was gone. You can’t reason with someone like that. She and Leon—they’ve lost it, yeah? They weren’t meant for captivity.”

 

“So what am I supposed to do? It’s been twenty-one days.”

 

Cora clamped a hand over her mouth, silencing her breath. There was only the sound of the porch swing chains creaking. Then Nok sighed.

 

“You can’t save someone who doesn’t want to be saved. At some point you have to look out for yourself.”

 

“You don’t understand, Nok. I’ve hurt her before. I owe her this.”

 

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