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My heart rate spikes as my parents walk with me in the middle. My dad does his best to hide my face from the cameras, especially because of what I chose to wear, dressed like a pretty monster and hiding the ugliness inside me through designer clothes, frilly updos, and high heels.

The room is filled to capacity, nearly suffocating with the overwhelming crowd inside. Conversations pause, the room falling to a hushed whispers when I step inside.

My mom gives me a reassuring squeeze. “Any time you want to leave…” she reminds me.

Keeping my head held high, the click of my heels nearly echoes, even though there are at least three hundred people here. Slowly, the chatter continues, and I can breathe, no longer having the urge to run like hell. We take a seat at our assigned table, which, unfortunately, is near the front of the room.

Not every face is welcoming—some are curious, some are indifferent, and many stare with innate fascination as if I’m merely an act in a circus. They all think they know me—the new Olivia who captured the heart of their beloved twins.

“You have just as much of a right to be here as anyone else, London,” my dad says as he ushers me to our table. Eventually, the whispers subside, and I nurse my water in front of me and try to catch a glimpse of anyone I recognize.

A certain twin…

I’m not surprised when I don’t see him. His parents are in prison, his brother is dead, and he just came back a week ago after spending nearly a year in the wild. And if caught, everyone will want a piece of him, which I’m sure he hates.

I can honestly say I have no clue what his headspace is like after enduring what he has or what that isolation did to him. I only know what my headspace is like as darkness seeps in, infiltrating my thoughts at every corner.

After a few minutes, a shadow looms over me. I look up from staring down at my feet and see Jade smiling at me.

“It’s nice to see you, London.”

I can’t help it. I lurch up and hug her.

I see a resemblance to her old self in her eyes, but a hardness lingers that will likely never go away. Her body is mostly covered. The scars are still evident, although I can only see them in a certain light. You have to know they are there to really notice them.

Thomas walks up beside her, and I hug him, too.

“You’re still together,” I say, not that I’m surprised. They were always a perfect match. They just needed the island to find each other.

The gleam in Jade’s eye tells me everything. They are still very much in love, and a little wave of envy hits me at how easy it is for them. Thomas’s unwavering presence by her side has obviously played a significant role in her healing journey.

James comes over next, followed by Serena, who gives me nothing but a weak smile. I hug him despite her. Secretly, I stayed in contact with James—mainly just text messages here and there. I also talk to Ezra, who writes letters to me all the time. With his upcoming trial, I doubt he will show up tonight. I can’t help but feel the urge to watch out for him—a very unlikely friendship indeed.

Naomi is nowhere to be found.

James looks me up and down, his eyes lingering on my curves. “You look good, London. How are you holding up?”

I shrug. “As good as I can, I guess. California is nice, the weather is… warm.” My facade is working. If everyone thinks I am okay based on my appearance, they will hopefully leave me alone.

“If you ever need anything, just call me, okay?” Serena’s eyes flash at his comment.

He steps back with Serena, and I smile at the sight of his clean-cut appearance—the boy next door. James is all grown up now.

It looks like the rest of the survivors are doing much better than I am, still clinging to the ones they had during the winter.

However, the uncomfortable silence compels me to notice the haunted expression in Jade’s eyes. As we lock gazes, the shadows within them sway, unveiling concealed layers of emotion.

She darts her eyes as quickly as she can when I notice it.

The fleeting moment with Jade has passed, but I saw it… She’s as tormented as I am. “Where’s Micah? Have you seen him?” I ask as if they know the answer.

Thomas’s muscles flex underneath his shirt as he places a protective arm around Jade. “No one knows. He’s here, though. He’s staying at the mansion because the lights are on. The media is swarming the perimeter of the house, but no one has talked to or seen him.”

That doesn’t surprise me, either.

With the lights going down, a hush falls over the crowd, signaling the start of the formal program. “It’s good to see you, London,” James says as they dissipate back to their seats.

The presentation is mainly a slideshow of photos of the youth who lost their lives. Picture after picture of pretty girls and handsome athletes, none of them I recognize. As I watch it, vivid images of maggots crawling in their eyes and decaying bodies flood my mind. I recall their blood staining my clothes, and Nigel drinking the tainted water that embodied them.