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“I don’t think so,” Graham said, sneering. “Not until we get back the meds. We can’t let anyone else die just because your little sister’s a drug addict.”

The accusation made every nerve in Bellamy’s body sizzle until his fingers itched to close around Graham’s neck.

“Enough,” Clarke said, shaking her head at Graham and raising a hand. “I want the medicine back more than anyone, but you’re not helping.”

“Fine,” Bellamy snapped. “But I’mtaking her into the tent. And no oneis going to put their hands on her again.”

He wrenched free from his captors and strode over to Octavia, grabbing her hand as he locked eyes with Graham. “You’re going to regret this,” Bellamy said in a low, dangerous voice. He wrapped his arm around his trembling sister and led her toward the infirmary tent, a grim determination overtaking him.

He’d do whatever it took to protect her. He always had.

It was the third guard visit in the last few months. They had been coming more often that year, and Octavia was getting bigger. Bellamy tried not to think about what would happen next time, but even he knew they wouldn’t be able to hide her forever.

“I can’t believe they looked in the closet,” his mother said hoarsely, staring at Octavia, whom Bellamy had carried to the couch. “Thank god she didn’t cry.”

Bellamy looked over at his toddler sister. Everything about her was miniaturized, from her tiny sock-clad feet to her impossibly small fingers. Everything except her round cheeks and enormous eyes, which always glistened with tears she never seemed to shed. Was it normal for a two-year-old to be so quiet? Did she somehow know what would happen if someone found her?

Bellamy walked over and sat down next to Octavia, who turned her head to stare at him with her deep-blue eyes. He reached forward to touch one of her dark, glossy curls. She looked just l lo his cike that doll head he’d found while scavenging for relics in the storage room. He’d thought about taking it home to Octavia, but decided the ration points he’d get for it at the Exchange were more important. He also hadn’t been sure whether it was right to give a baby a disembodied doll’s head, no matter how pretty it was.

He grinned as Octavia grabbed his finger with her tiny fist. “Hey, give that back,” he said, pretending to wince. She smiled but didn’t giggle. He couldn’t remember ever hearing her laugh.

“It was too close,” his mother was muttering to herself as she paced back and forth. “Too close… too close… too close.”

“Mom. Are you okay?” Bellamy asked, feeling his panic return. She walked over to the sink, which was still spilling over with dishes despite the fact that this morning had been their water hour. He hadn’t been able to finish before the guards came. It would be another five days before they’d have the chance to wash them again.

There was a faint crash down the hallway, followed by a peal of laughter. His mother gasped and looked around the flat. “Get her back in the closet.”

Bellamy put his arm in front of Octavia. “It’s fine,” he said. “The guards were just here. They’re not going to be back for a while.”

His mother took a step forward. Her eyes were wide and full of terror. “Get her out of here!”

“No,” Bellamy said, sliding off the couch and standing in front of Octavia. “That wasn’t even the guards. It was just someone messing around. She doesn’t need to go back in yet.”

Octavia whimpered but fell silent as their mother fixed her with a wild-eyed stare.

“Oh no, oh no, oh no,” their mother was muttering, running her hands distractedly through her already disheveled hair. She leaned back against the wall and slid down to the floor, landing with a sharp thud.

Bellamy glanced at Octavia, then walked slowly over to his mother, kneeling carefully beside her. “Mom?” A new kind of fear welled up inside him, different from what he’d felt during the inspection. This fear was cold and seemed to be creeping out from his stomach, turning his blood to ice.

“You don’t understand,” she said faintly, staring at something just behind Bellamy’s head. “They’re going to kill me. They’re going to take you and they’re going to kill me.”

“Take me where?” Bellamy asked, his voice quivering.

“You can’t have both,” she whispered, her eyes growing even larger. “You can’t have both.” She blinked and refocused her gaze on Bellamy. “You can’t have a mother and a sister.”

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CHAPTER 20

Glass

Glass swept up the final flight of stairs and turned into her corridor. She wasn’t worried about being stopped by the guards for violating curfew. She felt like she was floating, her steps featherlight as she skimmed silently down the hallway. She raised her hand to her lips, where the memory of Luke’s kiss still lingered, and smiled.

It was a little after three in the morning; the ship was empty, the lights in the hallway a dim glow. Tearing herself away from Luke made her ache with an almost physical pain, but she knew better than to risk getting caught by her mother. If she fell asleep quickly enough, she might be able to trick her mind into thinking that she was still with Luke, his warm, sleeping form curled up next to her.

She pressed her thumb against the key panel on the door and slipped inside.

“Hello, Glass.” Her mother’s voice came from the sofa.

Glass gasped and started stammering. “Hi, I was… I…” She fumbled for words, trying to come up with a plausible reason for why she’d been out in the middle of the night. But she couldn’t lie; not anymore, not about this.

They stood in silence for a long moment, and although she couldn’t make out the expression on her mother’s face, Glass could feel her confusion and anger radiating through the darkness. “You were with him, weren’t you?” Sonja finally asked.

“Yes,” Glass said, relieved to be telling the truth at last. “Mom, I love him.”

Her mother took a step forward, and Glass realized that she was still wearing a black evening dress, the outline of faded lipstick on her mouth, dying traces of her perfume in the air.

“Where were youtonight?” Glass asked wearily. It was like last year all over again. Ever since her father had left them, her mother had barely been around, staying out all hours of the night and sometimes sleeping through the day. Now Glass didn’t have the energy to be embarrassed, or even angry, about her mother’s behavior. All she could feel was a faint pang of sadness.

Sonja’s lips twisted into a gruesome approximation of a smile. “You have no idea what I’ve done to protect you” was all she said. “You need to stay away from that boy.”

“That boy?” Glass cringed. “I know you think he’s just—”

“That’s enough,” her mother snapped. “Don’t you realize how lucky you are to even be here? I’m not going to let you die for some Walden trash who seduces Phoenix girls and then abandons them.”

“He’s not like that!” Glass exclaimed, her voice growing shrill. “You don’t even know him.”