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Camille knows that. She helped define it. And the fact she’s willing to use this against Anex means she’s more dangerous than I anticipated.

Holding the key in my hand, I pause when I notice the apartment door is ajar. I’d left Camille’s house an hour before, prepared to clean out the few things we’d left. It isn’t much, but when you have nothing, it matters.

Turns out I may be too late and that the manager beat me to it when we didn’t pay next week’s rent—due yesterday.

It only takes a heartbeat to realize it isn’t the manager.

I see the guard first, standing stiffly next to the refrigerator. Unmoving, his eyes sweep over me. Across the room, Anex ligers by the window, fingers parting the metal blinds as he looks down on the street below.

“Anex,” I say, already bowing. When he turns, he waits for me to go through the motions, touching my forehead, giving him honor. “I didn’t know you were coming.” I didn’t know I was coming. “How…”

The question trails off.

“I followed you from the house.”

Ah, right. Has he been watching us the entire time?

My neck warms. “I can explain.”

“No need.” He waves his hand and assesses the chairs, nose wrinkled, trying to determine which is cleaner. He picks the one at the small kitchen table. “Camille’s been working out of that little dump for years now. I figured you’d end up there.” He looks around at the cobwebby corners of the room. “Even if it’s a dump, it’s less dumpy than this.”

The criticism of my temporary home rankles me. He kicked us out with nothing. Literally nothing to make our way and he’s judging where we landed? I swallow my ire and circle back.

“You’ve known about Camille’s program.”

“Of course. I’ve been tracking her since the day she left.” He gestures to the chair opposite of his and I sit, back rigid against the hard seat. “I knew she wouldn’t go far—not with Imogene still with us. She’s a betrayer, but it hurt leaving her daughter behind.” He crosses his legs, resting his hands on his thighs. “To be honest, I thought she’d get over her silly tantrum and return. She was weaker than I realized, so Regressive it ate away at her very soul.”

Weak isn’t how I would describe Camille, but I wisely keep my mouth shut. Anex isn’t finished. “What did you tell her when you and Elon showed up on her doorstep?”

“The truth,” I respond without hesitation. “Anything less would have made her suspicious. She was suspicious, but our story smoothed that out. She’s happy to help two fellow outcasts.”

I try to keep the pain out of my voice. Speaking of this so lightly—it digs deep under my flesh. Serendee is my home. Anex my leader, but things are different now. I am on uneven ground. I have to do everything I can to level the field.

I must answer correctly because Anex simply nods and asks, “How is Camille?”

“She hates you.” I flash him a grin. “And you’re right, she’s completely lost to The Way. But she’s also conniving. She’s aware that there’s no way to get to you—at least by normal means.”

“She’s never had the power to touch me.”

So arrogant. How had I never seen that before? That his confidence and false sense of identity will be what brings him ruin. Yet here I am, telling him. “You need to know she’s rallying the families of the people you’ve brought in recently—thewealthyfamilies.”

“Interesting.” His eyes flick over to the guard, and he scratches his chin. “Did she say how?”

I shake my head. “She’s hoping to use their influence.”

“Bad press? Politicians? Government bureaucracy. How pathetic.” His voice rises an octave as he stands. “She’s going to use the system to takemedown? What? Uncle Fucking Sam? What a goddamn hypocrite.”

My hands grip the edge of my seat, body frozen as he rants. I’ve seen many sides of Anex. Thoughtful. Wise. Intelligent. All powerful and judicious. But this anger, it comes in a flash and sets my nerves on edge.

“She’s culpable, you know that? Her name is on so many things—all of the early ideals of Serendee. She made promises to me. Oaths. I wonder how she’d like me to expose her to the world for being a lying, betraying, cock-teasing bitch?” He swings his arm around, catching the top of the chair and slinging it across the room. It clatters against the floor before toppling into the wall. “Fuck!” He spins. “No, fuckher.”

The outburst is intense. Wild and erratic. I slide my eyes in the direction of the guard, but he hasn’t moved an inch. I take a deep breath and swallow past the lump in my throat. “Although she wants revenge, I think the one thing she wants more than that, is to see her daughter.”

“That,” he snaps, head whipping around, “will never happen.”

“No, I would assume not, but,” I weigh my words carefully, “what if there’s another way to handle all of this?”

“I would have killed her already if that was an option.”