“Nothing?” With a light chuckle, I nudge her tensed arm. “Surely you playedsomething.”
She doesn’t turn to me. Doesn’t appear to be searching through her memory bank. Instead, she continues to peer out at the children below. Transfixed.
“Look,” Luna begins, “if you want to talk, that’s fine. We can talk about anything you want. Anything to delay going back to the…”
Training room.
She wipes her palms on her knees. “But please don’t expect me to open up to you. If you don’t want to tell me anything real, fine, but don’t try to pry into my life.”
“I just told you something real.”
Her head falls back in a laugh—short and dramatic. Without looking at me, she shakes her head, a smile lingering as if she’s truly amused.
I feel my eyes narrow, tongue stroking my teeth. But as a minute stretches, my lips curve with hers.
I don’t know how she caught the lie, but she’s not wrong to assume I would.
The kids around the neighborhood would’ve kicked my ass if I’d tried to play with them, but I did watch them through my bedroom window. Every Friday night.
When seconds pass without Luna speaking, I move my gaze forward and try to ignore her. The top of the electric fence peeks behind trees, maybe a hundred yards or so away. The Nurturers are nearest to the border, the obvious location to scout for escape. And also the most guarded.
My eyes scan, counting the Keepers at various posts, my brain churning through a backup escape plan. But when Luna sighs—light but audible—it tugs like a cord in my gut. She rubs her arms as if suddenly cold. Or self-soothing.
I try to go back to the ground below, but the twist in my stomach pulls so tight, I hardly see anything.
“What is it you’d like to know about me, Luna?” My tone is flatter than I mean it to be.
“I don’t know,” she says, voice low. “Something. Just not another lie.”
She tucks hair behind her ears and glances at me—hopeful, I think. “I’m alone and I’m scared. And your mind games are cruel. They make me feel like I’m goingcrazy…. “ She exhales a shaky breath. “I just want a break from them. Five minutes.Please.”
Her voice breaks on the word and scrapes across my eardrums, her gaze so pitiful, I can’t help but break away.
“It can be anything,” she prods. “Like… who do you see during the day?” she asks. Innocent. On the surface. “You’re always showered when you come back… Do you have friends here or…?”
Pity loosens its grip on my chest. My jaw follows.
She almost had me.
“I already told you, my way out ismyway out. My friend is no use to you.”
“You don’t know that,” Luna insists.
“Idoknow that.”
“Then why would it hurt to tell me?” She flings her hands, swatting the air. “Why iseverythingoff limits?”
I huff a laugh, palm grinding up my forehead. “Because you’re fishing for information and pretending it’s companionship.” I twist my body toward her. “You want honesty? Then be honest. Don’t give me this boo-hoo, ‘I just want to talk’ bullshit… If I could help you escape, I would. But I can’t. So this fit of yours is pointless.”
She whips toward me. “What was the name of your childhood pet?”
What?
“Who was your best friend when you were seven?”
I laugh. “You trying to get into my bank account?”
“What’s your favorite Beatles song? What flavor of ice cream do youhate? Do you have any hobbies? Did your first love break your heart?”
