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I smile at the thought, and it doesn’t surprise me, not with how well-read Maison was. He did, after all, switch personas with Micah in English class. He loved it when I read The Great Gatsby to him; he appreciated it in a way Micah doesn’t. “Tell me something else…”

I listen to him speak and reminisce about his years of friendship with Maison. I can’t help but question Ezra’s role as the villain despite all the terrible things he’s done. His parents got royally fucked by the Matei family, and his reactions were always centered on that.

I love hearing his stories about Maison—the imagery it creates in my mind. I could listen to Ezra talk about Maison for hours. It’s the perfect distraction for my duplicity and rebellious thoughts against Micah.

What I’m contemplating doing.

I cut Ezra’s hair to the point where I think it looks decent. I make careful snips, trying to make it perfectly even for him, then blow on his head. “There, you’re done. Turn around so I can see your face.”

He turns, and as he does, I barely recognize him. He still has beady eyes, but I’m taken aback. I forgot how cute he actually is. When he’s not being Ezra, he’s a pretty attractive guy. I thought so the first time I saw him, too. Until he scowled, and I was able to tell how mean he was.

He narrows his eyes at me. “What? Why are you looking at me like that? Do I look horrible?”

I shake my head and smile. “Not at all. We will get you a new girlfriend in no time.” The best part is how much Naomi loves Ezra’s long hair and how good it felt to cut it all off knowing that.

He hoods his eyes for a second, and I realize how dry my mouth is—how little water and snow melt we have. “We can’t stay here much longer,” I tell him.

“I can’t go back to the other group, London. We could go to the lake site, but I can’t guarantee you’ll be safe there. Nigel will go there eventually because he has no other choice, either.”

I tilt my head. “You know, you could just apologize to Thomas and the others. All you have to do is be genuine and swallow your pride. You never know; people might surprise you. I think Micah chopping off your fingers was enough punishment, and they might feel the same way, too.”

I have to think there is a shred of goodness left on this island.

Forgiveness. Love. Hope.

Anything else than hatred.

His mouth twitches. “No fucking point. Plus, I doubt anyone left alive will want to share since we’ve already divided the food equally.”

My heart sinks. He has a point.

I bury any last traces of guilt for what I’m about to suggest. I stare down at my bruised and lifeless hand, then slowly raise my head to meet his gaze. “Ezra, I know where Micah is hiding the rest of the food. I can get us to the cabin.”

Chapter Sixteen

Micah

The evening looms as we step outside the warmth of the cabin. At this time of night, when both the sun and moon share the sky, the shadows are the longest. It’s not an ideal time to go looking for London, but I can’t stay here without her for another second. Especially now that I am certain that Naomi is playing games.

Naomi stumbles forward, and my fingers tighten around my bone weapon.

Fresh footprints mark the melted mud and snow. Two sets of them lead right up to the window, then back into the forest, where they seem to disappear again. Whoever it was wasn’t even trying to hide themselves. Someone was here recently. These muddy prints were not here when I was out here twenty minutes ago.

My stomach tightens when a flicker flashes in the corner of my eye. I lift my hand as Naomi opens her mouth to speak, only to close it again as I grab her and pull her into my chest, covering her mouth. “Someone’s out there, watching us,” I whisper.

“What? What did you see?”

I press my hand harder. “Shh, Naomi. Don’t fucking talk.” She freezes in my arms as I scan the darkness. “London?” I call out and listen.

My ears are keen. Only the familiar sound of silence answers me.

“London, answer me. I know you’re there,” I yell out as Naomi wiggles and squirms in my arms, which only causes me to tighten my grip on her mouth, suffocating her so she will shut the fuck up. The wind rustles through the thick trees while Naomi shakes, then goes limp. Just the raw, rugged sounds of nature.

I wait.

Listen.

I barely let Naomi breathe.