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“We’ll stay here,” Ida says finally. “Here with Kasey. We’ll stay.”

No one looks at Jennifer, but with slow, agonized movements, she sits up.

“I... can’t go,” she says, her voice hoarse. “I need to stay. I can’t lie when I’m like... I’m staying.”

Then her face crumples. “How could I not know ?”

My last hold on my emotions shatters, and I storm over to sit beside her, wrapping her in a hug. “You couldn’t have. It’s not your fault. He’s a liar... this is what they do .”

“It’s what they did ,” Sloane snaps.

And my own rage burns.

She’s right.

Every last one of them needs to die.

Hearing the soft voices inside, I tentatively touch the door to the med bay with the bouquet of flowers I’m holding, and it opens just a fraction. My heart is still aching hours after meeting with Jennifer and the civilians, and I want to check on Dom before I turn in.

But it sounds like someone beat me to it.

I peek inside the room to see Beau sitting up on the bed next to Dom’s. He checked himself out officially a few hours ago... but he’s still barely left his best friend’s side.

Slow tears slip over Beau’s cheeks as he looks down at Dom. As I watch, he sniffs, blinking his tears back ruefully. “I’m just... I’m so sorry, Dom.”

“Beau,” Dom starts gruffly, grimacing as he sits up. “Come on, you don’t have to?—”

“I do, though,” Beau interrupts, soft and serious.

“I do. Just let me say it. I know I told you before, but I should never have cut you out. Not a few weeks ago, and not after you chose Heather. I didn’t.

.. I didn’t know then, I didn’t get it.

I had these ideas about love and family, and when you sat me down. ..”

Beau trails off, swallowing, and he rubs his jaw as another tear slips out.

He shakes his head once. “I guess it felt like I was losing the last family I had left.”

Dom looks back up at him, his brows low, eyes hurting. “You weren’t, Beau... you wouldn’t. I’m here for good.”

Beau’s hand tightens on his face, until his fingers turn white, and he doesn’t look at Dom for a long minute. His throat is taut, and my heart bleeds for him as I lean against the door.

This isn’t for me. I shouldn’t watch.

But both of them have come so far, and I’ve never loved either of them more than I do in this moment.

Dom sighs. “I didn’t make that clear. I handled the whole thing so fucking badly.”

Beau scoffs a small laugh that sounds more than a little wet.

“I think we both did a number on each other over that one, but... it was just a mistake. Shit happens. It’s going to keep happening, and it’s.

.. I just need you to know it’s okay if you don’t get it right the first time, Dom.

I’m not your dad. I don’t need you to be perfect.

I’m not walking away from any of you again. ”

This time, Dom’s the one who looks away, and he clears his throat hard.

“You—” He stops, shifting uncomfortably on the bed.

His chest and arm are wrapped heavily, and Beau gets up to get him some painkillers.

“Beau...” Dom sighs as he pulls himself to sit up with his good arm. “I appreciate this, I do, but we’re good. You got mad and you didn’t know how to deal with it, and you figured it out. Fucking slowly, but...”

Beau snorts softly as he empties some pills into his hand, then pours out a cup of water, and Dom’s mouth curves up in a smile at his back.

“I love you,” Dom finishes, watching him, his voice soft and heavy with his seriousness.

“ You’re my fucking family, Beau. Even when we were on the outs, I knew you were coming back because you’re too damn loyal not to.

Because you love with your whole damn chest. And. .. because that’s what family does.”

Beau turns back around, and his throat works hard.

He blinks back his tears again, looking at Dom. “Love you too, Dom.”

Quietly, Dom nods, and it takes a minute for Beau to nod too, and he smiles wryly.

“It looks like our family got a whole lot bigger than we planned,” he murmurs.

“I like it better this way,” Dom replies, and Beau’s smile warms as he pushes off the counter.

Beau hands Dom his painkillers and the cup of water with a small smile, then holds up his own canteen. “To the new plan, Dom.”

“To a loud, flawed fucking life,” Dom murmurs back.

And to that, they drink.

“Slow down, sugar. You’re going to break your fucking neck.”

“No.”

It’s well past dark. We’re finally at the Reapers’ farmlands. Our camp is set up, sentries are posted all around the perimeter, our stomachs are full of their filthily bought food... and I’m so angry I could choke on it.

I almost trip over another burned beam, and Jayk mutters a curse, then yanks me into his arms, carrying me bridal-style toward the Reapers’ livestock barn.

I glower at him, even as I settle against his chest—and I only glower because I wouldn’t put it past Jayk to throw me over his shoulder again instead.

This is at least marginally more comfortable.

Plus, I really am struggling to see anything in the dark.

And I do need to go there. We have flashlights to pull out once we’re hidden by the building.

Because I need to see it for myself.

“Did you hear him today, Jayk?” I’m almost shaking again, just thinking of Sawyer’s audacity, the sheer, repulsive manipulation dripping off every word.

Jayk’s chest is the only warmth against the bitter night.

My lips twist. “The way he was crying about those men dying like they were the victims. Trying to get us to pay the price for all of his mess, and his failures, and his... his evil ! God, he thinks we’re so stupid !

A livestock barn! With the henhouse and the pigsty and two cowsheds and the sheep milling around right in front of us.

The whole place, every building except this one in pristine condition.

” A harsh scoff rips out of me. “Hardly evidence of years of raids and heartbreak and patching up. No gunshots. They’re flourishing ! ”

Jayk rounds the back of the barn, and he nods once, slowly. Grimly. His eyes are locked on it. He hasn’t stopped raging all week, no matter how many times I slip him far, far away from camp with me to try to help ease him.

Maybe it hasn’t worked because I’ve not been easy either.

We’ve been a storm.

“I heard him,” he says flatly.

He sets me down on my feet and pulls out his flashlight, shining it up at the barn. We’re close now, and the building should block most light.

“It’s pretty fucked, Eden. I don’t think it’s stable. We should stay out?—”

I pull out my own flashlight and quickly push past him into the narrow opening.

“ Fuck ! You little . . .”

He’s quick to follow me in, and I slow as I step inside. The stalls are hollow husks, and there are broken, charred beams splitting the room. Wood lies everywhere, and each step stirs eddies of ash into the air that glimmer in the light.

There’s a strange feeling to the air in here.

My breathing becomes shallow, careful , like I’m in danger of disturbing ghosts.

I twitch my flashlight around as I walk in slowly.

Something about the burned remains sends chills up my spine.

A heavy melancholy seeps under my skin with every step, one that could have everything to do with what I know about this place.

.. but that I can’t help feeling goes deeper.

It’s like these blackened walls have seen so much sadness, so much fear and rage, that they’ve been stained.

“Eden...” Jayk’s voice is grim, and softer than I’m used to. “I don’t feel like I should be in here. I don’t think I’m...”

Not we.

He .

Briefly, I look back at him, and he’s eyeing the walls too, his mouth grim and sad. He shakes his head as he trails off, like he’s not entirely sure what he’s saying.

But I think I know.

Deep in the barn, the wood groans, and electric prickles lift up the small hairs on the back of my neck.

These stains were made by men—and here in the dark, with ash motes floating in the air, it makes a perfect kind of sense to me that men wouldn’t be welcome between these walls.

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I nod once. “Okay. Okay, we can go. I’m sorry, I just needed to...”

I turn, and my flashlight catches on a metal reflection.

My breath shivers out. Slowly, I walk past Jayk, my flashlight fixed on the stall, and with each step, the fear and rage and grief sink into my bones. My blood. My emotions swirl like the disturbed ash beneath my feet.

If these walls rejected Jayk, I feel the opposite from them—like I’m being drowned in their feeling, sharing in it, grieving for it with them. Like they needed it to be seen.

These stains needed a witness.

I kneel gently in the ash and char, and a tear slides down my face as I brush away the debris, my sorrow in my throat. My hand trembles as I pick it up, lifting it off the wall, and the heavy chain links jingle together like church bells. More tears follow the first, silent and sad.

Manacles.

Slowly, I turn my flashlight, seeing stall after stall, blackened chains after blackened chains.

There are manacles chained to the walls.

The walls groan again, and the feelings swamp me, fill me to the brim, fill me until I’m overflowing.

“We need to go, sugar. Now. Get up.”

They penned them in. Their livestock. Their trade.

Their safety for all this pain .

I bury my face in my hands. “Jayk, they...”

There’s a malicious crack somewhere deep in the chest of this place, and Jayk curses.

“Out. Now .”

He grabs me up off the floor, hauling me out, and I find my feet, sobbing, just as one of the heavy beams crashes down from the ceiling.

The earth shudders beneath us, and the whole barn begins to groan as we run for the opening.

Jayk yanks me forward, tossing me out onto the grass, then runs out seconds before the whole left side of the building crashes in on itself, exploding ash into the night.

He pushes me away with rushing, urgent shoves.