Page 55 of To Cage a Wild Bird (Divided Fates #1)

Vale tried to catch my eye, but I avoided him during my shifts in the workshop and averted my gaze when I passed him in the

corridor.

I couldn’t even face the swirling mass of grief that had taken up residence in my bones, let alone try to work out how I felt

about Vale’s lie.

Any discussion of escape plans stopped.

As it was, it was hard enough to get out of bed and go through the motions each day.

After Councilor Elder’s near-death experience, Pharil Coates called an emergency meeting of the board to figure out a way

to spin the accident that wouldn’t incite public backlash.

Councilor Elder didn’t remember the fall or the moments leading up to it but didn’t want the incident to keep Endlock from

raking in credits. That much became apparent once Coates publicized a story explaining that August had gotten into a fight

with the Councilor and yanked her into the trench with him just as she pulled the trigger on her gun.

There was no mention of me.

Larch looked like he was on the verge of a breakdown, stalking around Endlock and hollering at anyone who so much as looked

at him. His uniform was rumpled, his minimal hair flat with grease, and stains marred the fabric of his shirt beneath his

armpits.

I overheard Yara saying the board was looking to remove Larch from Endlock, and they were only keeping him on until they could

find a suitable replacement—something that would have made me smile before but barely broke through my consciousness now.

But Councilor Elder’s brush with death drew even more people to Endlock to partake in the hunts.

The live screen in the mess hall showed that the daily hunts were full, and after Elder accepted a live interview, streaming the story to every tablet and screen in Dividium, I overheard Larch saying he had to turn dozens of guests away each day.

The hunters flocked to Endlock like vultures, eager to pick at the meat and bones of the disaster.

In the end, the event made Councilor Elder look good . She was the one who had finally taken August out. The story rallied Endlock’s most loyal supporters. The company’s financial

forecast had improved, which meant that Elder’s own stake in the company had to be up, too. She was profiting from Gus’s death.

Two days after his death, the rotation had moved back to our cellblock, and I’d lifted my head only long enough to confirm

that the hunters hadn’t chosen Jed or Momo or any of my friends as targets.

When a new group of hunters came through our cellblock a couple of days later, I hardly noticed.

I sat on my cot, slumped forward with my elbows resting on my knees and my face buried in my hands.

“I’ll take number 203.”

I stood, rushing over to look into the corridor and wrapping my hands tightly around the bars of my cell, my heart in my throat.

Hyde was unlocking Jed from his cell and corralling him down the hall with the rest of the targets.

“Hey!” I slammed my palm against the bars, the reverberation coursing up my arm. “My rank’s higher than his. Don’t you want

more of a challenge?”

Hyde chuckled, peering down from where he towered above me. “Shut up before I make you. Selection’s over.”

Jed looked back over his shoulder, catching my eye. It’s okay , he mouthed.

But it wasn’t okay. I’d been so wrapped up in my grief and guilt that I’d failed to hear what was unfolding during the selection

process until it was too late.

I stared down the corridor long after Jed had been ushered out of the cellblock, hoping he’d return to me if I just kept watching.

But life at Endlock didn’t stop on account of my worry.

During my shift in the workshop, images of Jed out on the hunting grounds flashed through my mind—Jed running and hiding.

Jed screaming and dying.

I swung my hammer, intending to hit a nail, but instead, I brought the tool directly down on my thumb.

I yelped.

This was what our lives would be if we didn’t escape. An endless cycle of being chosen for hunts until one of us failed to

return. Until all of us did.

I’d foolishly made friends and allowed myself to open up. Allowed myself to care for others. And I couldn’t wait around and

watch the rest of them die.

I wouldn’t. I’d sworn to Gus that I’d get Momo out of Endlock, and I intended to keep that promise.

Yara cast a worried look in my direction before returning to her work.

We hadn’t spoken since the day Gus died.

I hadn’t seen her talk to Vale, either. Instead, she formed a close-knit trio with Kit and Momo as Jed remained glued to my

side.

The radio on Vale’s desk crackled to life, nearly jumping me out of my skin. At first, there was static, and then Hyde’s tinny

voice came through.

“You should be jealous you’re not out here with me on the grounds. I might have witnessed the most entertaining kill of the

year.”

There was a prolonged pause before Vale finally picked up the radio and pressed the button on the side. “What do you want,

Hyde?” A frown turned his lips down at the corners.

More static. “What’s gotten into you?” Hyde retorted. “Don’t answer that. It doesn’t matter—this will give you a laugh. I watched some kid fall out of a tree and snap his spine.

He saw the hunter coming for him, but he couldn’t move to get away. Not so much as a finger. All he could do was cry.”

I shot to my feet, the stool screeching against the floor as I pushed away from my workbench.

Vale pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes for a long moment.

More static. “Vale? You there?”

Vale blew out a breath. “That’s horrifying.”

“Oh, it was.” Hyde sighed dreamily, and bile climbed up my throat. He sounded as if he were salivating at the memory.

“Who was it?” I called across the room, my voice unsteady. “Which inmate?”

The other inmates stared in disbelief, their tools held in various positions of use, stunned that I dared to speak to a guard

without being addressed first.

Vale’s head snapped up. For a split second, I saw something like relief in his eyes. But then, seeming to remember himself

and noting all the witnesses around us, his eyes narrowed.

He held my gaze, biting his lip for a moment. But then he shook his head, standing. “Shut your mouth and sit down, 224. Speak

to me like that again, and you’ll regret it. Do you understand?”

I gripped my uniform to keep my hands from shaking as I nodded and sat back down.

The buzzer rang out, signaling the end of the hunt.

I leaned heavily against the workbench, my breaths coming in ragged gasps.

I couldn’t lose anyone else. Not Jed. I wouldn’t survive it.

A hand touched my shoulder, and I turned.

“It’s okay,” Yara said, wrapping her arm around me. “It’s not him.”

“How do you know?” My voice broke, tears threatening to spill over as I leaned into her, letting her support my weight.

Her gaze was unwavering. “Because you would feel it. He’s your brother, and you would know.”

“Hey.”

I whipped my head around to the entrance of my cell. I’d been engrossed in counting the cracks in the wall to keep from driving

myself mad thinking about Jed—waiting for him to return.

I hadn’t heard Yara’s approach.

“How are you doing?” she asked, stepping tentatively into my cell.

“Every minute he’s not back in his cell, I lose a little more hope.”

“He’s fine, Raven,” she said, resting on the mattress beside me. “There was only one kill. I heard the guards talking.”

“It could still be him.”

“It’s not.” Yara bit her lip. She looked at me and then away.

I took a deep breath. “I’m sorry.”

“What?”

“For shutting you out,” I clarified. “I just felt so betrayed, knowing that you all knew about Vale and didn’t tell me. And

Gus’s death was too much. I thought if I pushed you all away—” My voice cracked, and I dropped my gaze.

“Let me guess,” Yara cut in. “You thought if you pushed us away now, you wouldn’t have to feel this pain again if something

happened to us later on.”

I turned back to her, wide-eyed.

“I guessed as much, and then Jed confirmed it,” she explained.

“I didn’t even say anything to him.”

“Please. You two practically read each other’s minds. You think he couldn’t tell what was going on with you?”

My lips twisted to one side. I’d always felt like I could read Jed’s mind—every expression and move and inflection of tone.

Of course, he could read mine, too.

“There’s nothing to forgive,” Yara whispered, sitting next to me. “We were never upset at you—we felt guilty for lying. And

we’ve all been in too much pain to address it.”

“What if we can’t trust him?” I whispered. Tears welled in my eyes, overflowing as I looked at her.

Yara placed her hands on my shoulders, meeting my eyes as tears continued to stream down my cheeks. “Of course, we can trust

him. Do you think Gus would’ve risked Momo’s life on blind hope alone?”

I looked away.

No. Gus would’ve never put Momo’s life in danger, and now I wouldn’t, either. I was done being selfish and wallowing in feelings of betrayal.

“We can’t let his death be for nothing,” Yara whispered when I didn’t answer. “Once we know Jed’s safe, we have to get out of here.”

I shook my head, feeling the heavy weight of helplessness. “I know, and we will. I won’t break my promise to him. It’s just

that Gus being a doctor was a huge advantage for us and our chances of the North Settlement leaders letting us all in. What

if they won’t take us all without him?”

“We’ll have to find another way in,” Yara declared as if it were the simplest thing in the world. “Make them an offer they

can’t refuse.”

I was trailing Yara to dinner when Vale rounded a corner and locked eyes with me. “224. Come with me. I need an extra set

of hands in the workshop.”

I froze.

“Should I come, too?” Yara asked.

“No. I only need one of you.”

Only me.

There could only be one reason Vale would risk pulling me aside. I swallowed against a lump in my throat, my pulse racing.

I caught Perri eyeing the two of us as I stepped numbly away from Yara and followed Vale down the hall.