I flinched, my fingers brushing over the bruise hidden beneath my sleeve.
“I hate him, Liora,” I whispered, tears prickling. “I wish he’d leave me alone forever.”
“I know, child. I know.” She paused, then added quietly, “But you must be careful. You don’t want to upset him again.”
My hands balled into fists.
“He looks at me,” I choked. “He’s always looking. I wish I was ugly. I wish I was disgusting so he’d stop.”
“Elira…” Liora’s voice wavered.
“No!” I shoved away from the stool and bolted out of the room, heart pounding.
Outside, the air was cool. The little garden was walled in with tall hedges and iron fences—my only freedom. A few toys lay scattered in the grass. I grabbed a ball and threw it hard, too hard. It arced high into the air and disappeared over the hedge.
“No!” I cried, collapsing onto the ground. Hot tears spilled down my cheeks as I sobbed into the dirt.
Then—thud.
The ball rolled gently back through the bushes.
I sat up, startled. I blinked through the green leaves, crawling toward the hedge.
Peeking through a small gap, I gasped.
There was a boy on the other side. Ragged hair, muddy clothes, wide soft brown eyes.
He looked about my age.
“Don’t cry,” he said quickly. “Did you get your ball?”
I nodded, still stunned. “Yes… thank you! But—who are you?”
He grinned, crooked and wild. “I’m Finn. Want to be friends?”
**
I woke to the feel of fingers gently brushing hair from my face. Familiar.
I blinked up, disoriented, into Finn’s older—more worn—face. There were shadows beneath his eyes, and a tightness in his jaw. But when he saw me awake, something in him softened.
“You’re awake,” he breathed, voice rough with relief. “Jasper said you collapsed in the tunnel. He brought you to me. Are you okay?”
I sat up too fast. Pain flared behind my eyes, sharp and immediate. I winced and clutched at my temple.
“I… collapsed?”
“Yeah,” he said, watching me carefully. “Took a hit pretty hard. But you still won the fight.” His voice dipped into something bitter. “Mother’sverypleased. We might even get real food tonight.”
He tried to joke, but I wasn’t listening. Not really.
Something must’ve shifted in my expression, because his smile faltered. His brow furrowed as he studied me, uncertainty creeping into his features.
“What?” he asked cautiously.
I stared at him.
And for a moment, I didn’t see the man he’d become—I saw the boy behind the hedge. The liar behind the bars.
