“Behaving for once?” he asks. “Or are you saving your insults for when you’re far away from my blade?”
My eyes widen.
“How—”
“You are terrible at pretending to be good,” Ender says. “Your eyes are spewing the filth your mouth doesn’t dare utter.”
The door cracks open, and Spider rushes in.
“I just realized when I told Mercy you were here, she was probably going to…” Spider halts. “Disturb you.” He finishes.
“Get out!” Ender snaps.
Ender’s cold eyes don’t retreat from mine. It burns with loathing. This guyreallyhates me, well, he hates everyone, but I’m definitely at the top of his list.
Spider speaks slowly. “Are you going to kill her, or did I walk into some weird role-play?”
“Out!”
Spider walks backward, hands raised in defense.
“You’re just going to leave me here?” I ask. “You are the worst?—”
Ender’s hand falls on my mouth, silencing me.
“He can’t save you.”
The door clicks shut. It brings me some measure of satisfaction that I can see the bleeding cut on his thigh. His navy-blue lounge pants hang low on his hips. I take a second to study the intricate design of his tattoos. Eight stars form a circle on his heart, which likely stands for Black Star, his unit; there are six numerals under his left rib, and a dagger is on his sternum with a snake coiled around it.
His hand raises my chin until my neck burns.
“Stop gawking at me,” he says.
“Shy?” I ask.
“I just think your sister wouldn’t appreciate the thought of you making eyes at her husband,” Ender says mildly. “Don’t you think?”
“I wasn’t making eyes, you conceited bastard,” I hiss. “How dare you?”
Ender’s mouth twitches.
“And don’t pretend that you care about my sister. Name one thing that you know about her?” I ask.
Ender tilts his head, considering the question.
“She looks like you,” he says.
I wait for a beat until I realize that is the sum of his knowledge about my sister.
“She is kind and generous and has a heart twice the size of mine and yours,” I say. “She is the better half of me. And you are a fool to ignore what is right in front of you.”
“You forgot to mention, she’s a liar,” he says. “Just like you.”
Unease slips down my spine. He definitely knows about the switch. But he hasn’t done anything about it? He simply dangles it over my head like a noose.
I’m technically impersonating a soldier, which would get me at least a decade in prison if not execution.
“Let me go.”
