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“Would that have been so bad?”

“I couldn’t leave him to die.” She glanced at me and then away. “It’s not right.”

“Not right?” my father snorted.

“He’s weak, starving.”

“Another reason not to bring him here,” he said between clenched jaws.

My mother stepped closer and placed a hand on his chest. She lowered her voice. “It’s okay. Look at him. He’s not a threat. And he might know more than we do about what’s happening out there. He could know whether there are other groups like ours or others like him…”

“When has his kind ever been helpful?” My father growled.

“Please. Let’s wait and see what he says. If he even wakes up. He looks pretty far gone.”

My father sighed. “Just because he isn’t a threat to us doesn’t mean he isn’t a threat to this community. You know what we need to do to keep everyone safe.”

Watching this exchange between my parents, I thought I understood what my mother hadn’t told me about the stranger. My mind flashed to the tales I’d heard of terrible monsters who’d hunted by night and gobbled up people during the Sick Times.

I looked down at the sleeping figure. He didn’t look like a terrible monster. He seemed rather harmless, lying among the throw pillows in the middle of our family’s living room. I stepped closer for a better look, hoping to confirm my suspicions. The movement caught my father’s attention, and he turned toward me, his eyes blazing.

“No,” he said, pointing his cane at the man. “I don’t want you anywhere near that thing. I’ll stay here and keep an eye on him. You find something else to do this morning—something outside this house. You hear me?”

“Yes,” I said, backing away from the sofa.

Although my father was not typically violent, he stood more than a foot taller than I did and could be quite intimidating when he was angry. I stepped back and edged toward the door. His eyes followed me, and his expression softened. He took a deep breath and nodded encouragingly.

As I left the house, I heard my father say to my mother, “You’d better tell the council members what you found. I imagine they’ll have an opinion about this.”

At sunset, a small group gathered in front of our house. I sat on the porch, watching people mill about in small clusters. Curiosity about what we’d found that morning had spread, even to those not invited to the night’s meeting. The council members arrived, made their way up the wooden steps, past me, and into the house. The porch’s weathered boards creaked, announcing their arrival.

I followed along, hiding behind the taller adults. I hadn’t been allowed inside all day, and I wasn’t going to miss the chance to sneak back in. I wasn’t sure what I’d expected when my mother decided to bring the stranger home, but this wasn’t it. I wanted to see what would happen, and I was more than a little curious to hear what the man would say when he woke up.

The council members sat in chairs facing the sofa. I spotted my mother, crawled behind the group, and crouched beside her. My mother gave me her customary scowl but nodded, inviting me to stay. I couldn’t see the sofa from my hiding spot, but I was struck again by the stranger’s scent. I’d grown used to it while we carried him home, but after being gone all day, it stung my nose again. It wasn’t a bad smell, but it made me uncomfortable.

A moment later, my father entered, drawing my attention. He hobbled to an empty chair and sat, balancing his cane across his knees, a stony expression on his face. With him settled and distracted, I shifted to get a better view.

I stifled a gasp when I saw the stranger. He was awake, propped up by the cushions, staring at the assembled group. The man still looked terrible. He no longer wore his baggy coat, and his shoulders and collarbones were visible through the thin fabric of his gray shirt. He lifted his hands from his lap, handcuffs dangling from each wrist like those of a prisoner. He raised an eyebrow at my father.

“We couldn’t be too careful,” my father said with a shrug.

The man tucked his dark chin-length waves behind his ears, revealing his sharp cheekbones and making the handcuffs jingle. He placed his folded hands back in his lap and surveyed the group.

As his gaze swept over me, I shivered. The man stared out from pale blue eyes so icy that they almost seemed to glow in the lamplight. His eyes made him look lethal, despite his sorry condition. Not that any of us needed a reminder of the danger sitting across from us. I’d never seen the group wound this tightly. The tension was like a living thing, snaking through the room.

My father cleared his throat, pulling me from my thoughts and grabbing everyone’s attention. He fixed his gaze on the creature on the sofa. “What’s your name?” he asked.

“Vincent,” the figure rasped, his voice barely above a whisper. He coughed—a ripping, tearing sound. “Vincent,” he managed again, louder and smoother this time. “You will have to forgive me. It’s been quite a while since I’ve spoken with anyone.”

“Well, Vincent, I’m Rob. My wife and daughter found you this morning. You were lying out in the open, and they thought it best to bring you here instead of leaving you for the sun.” My father tilted his head as if he were considering. “I would have made a different choice.”

“Thank you. I’m in your debt, madam, miss,” Vincent said, nodding politely in our direction.

My father turned and caught my eye from where I sat beside my mother. His eyes narrowed, and he pursed his lips, but he didn’t say anything. I hoped he wouldn’t want to make a scene in front of the entire room, and when he turned back to the stranger, I let out a long breath.

“What do you call this place?” the man asked.

“That’s not important,” Hanna, one of the council members, piped up. “I don’t think he needs to know the details, do you?” she said, looking around at the others.