The reunion of the honorary Fenharrows was exceptionally brief. Abel emerged from the school gym to find Neymar in the hall, only for Neymar to breeze past him with a mere glance.

  With Milo at his side.

  “Neymar. I have to tell you something—“

  “It can wait until we get home. I’m busy right now.” Neymar didn’t even slow his pace to speak. He merely waved the boy away. “You should be fine getting there by yourself, can’t you?”

  Abel was so taken aback that he couldn’t find the words until Neymar and Milo had vanished past the gates. Did he completely forget what happened? Or was this some sort of double speak? Or perhaps it was a secret cry for help?

  Neymar didn’t seem desperate or concerned.

  In fact, he seemed unusually calm.

  Abel didn’t have much time to think before Rockwell appeared beside him.

  “Lost your way to the library?” She chirped, “Where’s your cousin?”

  Hell, if he knew.

  “He’s… busy.” Abel robotically repeated.

  “Oh.” Rockwell seemed genuinely disappointed.

  It was enough to remind Abel that Rockwell also acted particularly strange around Milo— around everything related to the disappearance of Eve Mardin, really. Maybe she would know why Neymar and Milo suddenly joined forces, but what if she is the mysterious “she” they’ve been trying to find?

  Where to even start…?

  ”What was Eve Mardin like before she was taken?” He began, turning to her in earnest.

  “What brought this up?” Rockwell recoiled, surprised.

  ”A lot of people seem to care about her.” Except you. “And you seem to know a whole lot.” But you pretend none of it exists.

  When Rockwell’s gaze shifted uncomfortably, clocking her surroundings, Abel attempted an appeasing smile, “Ah, should we head to the library first?”

  If he willingly put himself in a position where he could get cornered, perhaps she might underestimate him.

  To his surprise, Rockwell shook her head.

  “If we’re going to talk, we might get kicked out.” She put on a smile, but the way her hands grasped her bag at her side was tense, as if she might run off at a moment’s notice. Odd.

  Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

  Yet, Abel couldn’t sense anyone paying them any mind. Nobody hiding in the corners to jump him either.

  Rockwell clasped her hands together, refocusing.

  “So, Eve. Well, she got along well with everyone. She’s kind, very clumsy, and very generous. The type of person to fall down the stairs and ask if you’re okay. And she would sooner do that than stick to a schedule, too— she was always running late to everything.”

  ”And that’s... bad?” Abel asked. He had yet to grasp what was considered “average” in the District, but she seemed perfectly normal.

  “Well, it turns out, she was just always helping her mom with errands. They ran a cafe near the river and gained a reputation of housing anyone who got kicked out of their home for one reason or another— relationship problems, rebellion, addiction— you name it.” Despite the glittering accolades, Rockwell seemed troubled by her own story, resting her chin over her clasped hands.

  “Sounds like there’s a ‘but’ in there.”

  “Eve was always trying to put others at ease, but that halfway home was running her ragged. Something wasn’t right about it. Before she was taken by the Catchers, she was… off. Quinn was constantly pushing her to take a break.”

  Abel’s gaze lifted at the sound of the girl’s name. He recalled the list he found, and how Rockwell’s name was crossed off of it. He couldn’t recall seeing Eve’s name on it either. Was it made regarding her disappearance?

  ”So Eve was close with Quinn?” Abel decided to ask instead.

  “Quinn treated that cafe like a second home. She didn’t always get along with her own mom… at least, before her mom was taken.” Rockwell amended, “So yes, they’re close.”

  “And she still sent Catchers after Eve?”

  Rockwell frowned, her hands falling to her sides.

  “So you know as much as Milo says.”

  Interesting.

  “Should I not believe him? He seems very attached to finding justice for Eve.”

  Rockwell’s face contorted into– was that distaste?

  “Milo cares about his cause to save the District. He does the same for anyone who gets Captured. He makes an effort to learn everyone’s name, to check on them, to give them a sense of safety knowing that someone will look out for them even when the worst has befallen them.“

  “Sounds like a great person, to take up such a responsibility.” Abel mused.

  “But all the info we have on the Catchers and what they do is from observation and secondhand sources. It’s very easy to make assumptions.” Rockwell frowned.

  “You don’t usually seem bothered by his assumptions.” Abel noted. “Now, you are.”

  Rockwell paused.

  “About three months ago, a man from our community was taken by the Catchers.” She began. “The one who had informed the Catchers— the snitch— was his stepson in our grade who found out that his step dad was having an affair. Milo had just started to… recruit, and that kid became the first to face his judgment.”

  “Milo dragged that kid from his house to the school courtyard and had him mobbed. Fifteen of the biggest and meanest in our school battered him until sunset.”

  “The kid was practically dead by the time they were done with him. Milo did it again the day the kid recovered. Those that tried to talk him out of it were put against the mob and eventually fell in line. The whole thing died down when the kid disappeared a few days later. For weeks after, there were no more reports of people calling on the Catchers… until Eve’s disappearance pointed all the fingers towards Quinn.”

  “That’s…”

  Rockwell’s brows furrowed, angered. “Effective. I guess that is where we draw the line. That kid shouldn’t have called the Catchers over a personal dispute. The people around him learned his lesson with him.” The deadpan tone of her voice made it seem like she didn’t believe what she said— but rather that she had to say it.

  “Quinn broke that peace, and the more she eludes him, the less the rest of the District is convinced on the severity of Milo’s punishment. It’s a far worse assumption to make, I think. Milo likes to make friends with very capable people. He’s charismatic, observant, and provoking. A lot of people agree with his cause. I won’t forget what happens to those that stand in his way, even if everyone else does.”

  Rockwell let out a shaky exhale, slung her bag over her shoulder, and began retreating down the hall. “Look, Abel. I might have to postpone our study group another time after all. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

  She turned to face him one last time as she backpedaled. “And for what it’s worth… I’m sorry you were attacked. Nobody should have to deal with that.”

  She fled the scene before he could respond.

  Abel stood there, perplexed.

  How did she find out about the attack?

  He could conclude that Rockwell wasn’t a main threat, but what he was unraveling instead was far more worrying.

  Rockwell knew a great deal and was scared. Perhaps of what he would do with the information she gave him, perhaps because of the repercussions of upsetting those she spoke about.

  That could only mean one thing: He’s wasted too much time on his ass talking when he should’ve been following Neymar.

  Abel sped off for the school gates.