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“You got me this far, and that’s more than I’ve been able to do in years of trying.”

I lift the bottom of the tent, and duck under, entering a room filled with women. They’re all dressed in sheer, embroidered dresses, but not one of them interests me. I scan the room, passing a blur of faces until my eyes settle on her.

My heart nearly cracks in two.

A ripple runs though the space, the women spotting me. Imogene looks up, eyes glassy. I frown, wondering if she’s sick.

“Is she drugged?” Camille asks from behind me.

Her cheeks are hollow. Her skin is paler than before. Her hair is clean but limp. Every effort has been made to make this girl beautiful for her Mating, but something is wrong. I stride across the room, not caring who sees me and kneel at her feet. “Imogene, what has he done to you?”

“Levi?” she asks, blinking away the fog. “Is that you?”

“Yes.” I drop to my knees. “I’m here.”

Her hands cup my face, soft and cool. She pinches my skin. “For real?”

“Definitely real.”

“But why? Why are you here? How?”

I kiss her fingers. “You know why, Little Lamb.”

“You shouldn’t have come back,” her gaze drops. “It’s too late. I’ve already been through the Preparations.”

Preparations.Even I don’t know exactly what that means other than they spend time together before the ceremony. But knowing what I know now and the lost look on her face, fear blooms in my chest.

“It’s not too late.” I force her eyes to mine. “Whatever oil they’ve anointed you with, or blessings they’ve given—those things don’t matter outside these walls.”

Suddenly it hits me—why she’s so lost. He got to her. The Reeducation, the punishments, the isolation and whatever else he threw at her—he got to her. Her mind is muddled. I understand this. I feel the tug to embrace the familiar. It’s nearly impossible to ignore. But the sadness coming off of her is real. As is the unsettling, distant, look on her face.

This isn’t the Imogene I’ve come to love, the spitfire, rebellious, fierce woman.

This is the Imogene Anex has created, and it’ll take work to draw her back out again.

Brushing back a stand of hair, I ask, “Imogene, where’s Rex?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t seen him since we were in the white room together.”

The white room.

“I don’t know where Silas is either,” she continues, “but I don’t think it’s good. He tried to help me, and we were punished.”

“It’s okay, Silas is—"

I sense the movement of a body behind me, and her eyes lift over my shoulder. Imogene’s jaw drops, words lost on her tongue. She looks back to me and whispers, “Levi, who is that?”

I stand, giving Camille room.

“Imogene.” The strong confident woman that escaped this place stands tall beside me. “Oh, honey, it’s me.”

Her head tilts, like she’s trying to process everything going on. “Mom?”

The reunion is interrupted, a high-pitched sound pierces the air outside the tent. Our eyes meet in confusion. “What was that?” she asks.

Faint pops sound in the distance, then grow louder and closer, until a large explosion shakes the ground around us.

Without thinking, the name escapes my lips. “Elon.”