Page 31 of To Cage a Wild Bird (Divided Fates #1)

In the weeks that followed, much to Larch’s chagrin, none of the hunters selected me for another hunt.

Groups of hunters rotated through our cellblock every few days, but most of them seemed uninterested in spending as many credits

as Larch wanted for me.

The number eight shone from the digital display above my new Upper-level cell, and I was still getting used to the comforts

that came with my higher rank. A soft twin-sized mattress with plush blankets and a fluffy pillow was pressed against one

wall, and a dresser, courtesy of Yara, held my few belongings. A small privacy wall blocked a toilet and sink from the view

of the other inmates.

The Upper shower room, too, was a welcome change from the Lower. Curtains lined each stall, and shelves at the edge of the

room held fresh towels, shampoo, and bars of soap. A long mirror stood in the corner, giving me the first glimpse of myself

in nearly a month. I’d lost weight from the meager rations given to the Grays, and purple circles weighed heavy beneath my

eyes.

Perri tried cornering me in the showers, but she didn’t have her group of minions by her side, and Kit and Yara stepped up

to my defense before we could come to blows. Cyril had pulled Perri away, not liking my improved odds.

The most surprising perk that came with being an Upper-level inmate was the privilege of sending and receiving letters from

loved ones outside of Endlock. I’d chosen Graylin as my primary contact. Of course, the guards reviewed all the communications,

but when I finally worked up the nerve to send a letter, I’d use the code Gray and I had developed.

I watched as Jed struck up easy friendships with our group, seeming to grow particularly close to Kit and Momo. I’d catch him playing made-up games with Momo at dinner and listening intently as Kit talked about the part she’d played in Endlock’s security.

My heart tightened at every interaction. Of course, Jed would build relationships in a place like this. He was sunshine incarnate.

I tried asking Kit and August about any progress they’d made toward escaping before I’d arrived at Endlock, but they answered

evasively.

Which meant I hadn’t gained their trust.

In an effort to remedy that, I told them about my plan to steal a pair of wire cutters from the workshop, and while they’d

agreed it was worth a try, they’d told me that Vale took inventory of the tools at the end of every shift, before the inmates

were allowed to leave.

If I was going to take the wire cutters, I’d have to time the theft perfectly.

And so far, I hadn’t had a chance to take a pair—there were too many inmates around, and Vale paid far too much attention

to us for my liking.

I hadn’t made any headway with Vale since my release from solitary, and our interactions remained short and detached. It was

partially a relief because if I kept him at a distance, I wouldn’t need to worry about how my traitorous body reacted to his

proximity—but it also meant my plan to get close to him would slip through my fingers if something didn’t change.

At the back of my mind, a clock was ticking down faster than I was comfortable with. The number of days I had left until the

North Settlement would refuse to take us in.

One afternoon during my shift in the workshop, Larch appeared in the doorway.

My head snapped up, and beside me at our shared workbench, August and Yara mirrored my reaction, turning toward the door.

Vale glanced at Larch from behind his desk in the corner of the room, where he’d been supervising us.

My heart pounded in my chest as I waited for Larch to call out an inmate’s number and have them hauled off to solitary, hoping beyond hope that it wouldn’t be me.

I didn’t know if I could take the darkness and isolation again.

But Larch turned his attention to Vale. “Did you forget something?”

It was almost as if Vale didn’t hear him. Instead of looking at the warden, he shuffled the papers on his desk, and I watched

Larch’s face grow redder and redder until he loudly cleared his throat.

Vale turned to him, his brow raised. “I’m not sure what you’re referring to.”

Larch ground his teeth together and snapped, “Come with me. Now.” Then he spun on his heel and disappeared into the corridor.

Vale’s eyes narrowed, and he clenched his jaw. I thought he might defy Larch’s order, but then he stood and left the workshop

without another word. The door clicked shut behind him, but the barrier did little to muffle the voices on the other side.

“It was so very generous of you to spare time from your day to catch up with us. I certainly won’t keep you long. You must have a very busy

schedule if you couldn’t be bothered to attend the board meeting.” A woman spoke the words with such vehemence that it took

my breath away. Her voice was vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t quite place where I’d heard it.

The board meeting?

Guards didn’t attend board meetings. No one did outside of the executives of Endlock Enterprises and the Council.

“Yes, it’s not as if we have busy schedules,” someone else answered, their words dripping with sarcasm. My eyes widened—it

was impossible not to recognize the voice of Pharil Coates, the CEO of Endlock Enterprises. I’d heard his voiceover on Endlock

commercials since I was a child.

“I wasn’t aware there was a meeting today,” Vale drawled, addressing the speakers casually, his voice fading as the group’s

footsteps moved farther away.

I strained, wanting to hear more. Needing to hear more if I was going to learn the truth about Vale.

I stood, and nearly every inmate in the room looked at me.

“I need to use the bathroom,” I said, directing the words to August and Yara but ensuring the rest of the inmates heard.

August looked uneasy. “Thorne—”

“It can’t wait,” I told him and made quickly for the door, turning the knob and stepping over the threshold before I could

change my mind.

I shut the door behind me.

“You can hardly claim not to have known about the meeting when I sent the communication over three times ,” the woman’s voice snapped from farther down the corridor. Her voice was as sharp as a dagger. “And I know the warden told

you himself.”

I flattened myself against the wall, slipping through the shadows as I crept toward the voices, keeping an eye on the cameras

to make sure no blinking red lights appeared.

“Do you know how many guards in your position would kill to be on the board, boy?” Pharil Coates chimed in. “Endlock Enterprises

is the life of this city. Dividium would be nothing without it.”

“Boy? Careful, Coates,” Vale murmured, dangerously low. “You wouldn’t want me to think you’re being disrespectful, would you?

Not when I know about your friend Blythe.”

Blythe? Blythe Levine?

As in the reporter who had been sent to Endlock for stalking Coates several months ago? It’d been all over the live streams

on my tablet and projected on screens across the Lower Sector.

There was a spluttering sound that I assumed came from Coates.

The truth of what had happened to Blythe was clearly different from what had been reported. And it must have been scandalous

enough that just knowing the truth had given Vale a career boost at Endlock—though he must travel in the top circles of the Upper Sector to have gained

access to that level of information. My best guess was that he had family on the Upper Sector’s board of officials, the only

leaders who came close to the Council’s power.

Vale being a part of the upper echelon of Dividium and having dirt on Coates would explain his strange authority over the other guards and the way he spoke to the warden. Larch must have been under orders to keep Vale happy at all costs.

“Nevertheless, my apologies,” Vale mused, as if his exchange with Coates had never happened. “I must have misunderstood the

warden. Was there something you needed from me?”

I took a few more steps.

Their voices were closer now, tucked into one of the rooms lining the corridor. From the sound of it, they hadn’t bothered

to close the door—they wouldn’t have thought anyone would dare follow them.

“Show some respect,” Larch hissed as if reprimanding a child.

Vale murmured something under his breath, and I pressed my back against the wall, creeping closer until I was inches from

the doorway. To my left, the stairwell that led to Endlock’s main level came into view—if anyone came down those steps, I’d

be caught.

The woman spoke again. “The average length of each inmate’s stay is becoming a problem,” she said, her tone grave. “There

are more arrests every day, but our citizens don’t seem able to kill their targets as easily as they once did. Endlock is

filling up at an alarming rate and will be over capacity soon.”

“As you can tell, Elder is worried about her reputation—I haven’t heard the end of it,” Coates said.

My jaw nearly hit the floor. Elder. That’s why the woman’s voice sounded familiar. It was Councilor Caltriona Elder. She was

the youngest of the Council, having inherited her position a few months prior when her predecessor and father, Gaius Elder,

had passed away.

So not only was Vale invited to a meeting with Warden Larch and the CEO of Endlock Enterprises, but he was also having an

intimate conversation with a councilor. Whatever he knew about Coates and Blythe Levine had to be damning.

“The real problem is that interest is down,” Coates continued. “We used to have to turn hunters away from every hunt. Hell, last year

we were looking into adding two more hunts in the evening just to meet demand, and now we can’t even fill up the three we

have every day. Profits are down nearly ten percent in the last two months alone.”

“Prices have gone up,” Larch said slowly. “What if we lowered them?”

Councilor Elder barked out a humorless laugh. “The adults are talking, Roth. We don’t pay you to help with business decisions.

Especially when you can’t even keep the inmates in check. Don’t think I didn’t hear about the hunter who was knocked unconscious

a few weeks ago.”