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“He stayed up all night with you,” he spits. “Apparently, you don’t know how to keep a fucking fire lit.”

Thomas steps forward, placing himself in between me and Ezra. “Dude, that had nothing to do with it. We had an accident because of our inexperience. None of us know what we’re doing out here.”

Ezra jerks his head to Micah. “Boy scout there says he does. But he fucked up and let the deer get away because he was out here saving this bitch, too.”

A growl leaves my throat. “You can’t possibly blame me for this?”

His eyes flash and he wipes his blonde hair behind his ear. “I can and I do. I’m fucking hungry, and now we have nothing to eat.”

Naomi pulls Ezra aside and casts me a particularly venomous look, just as Jade comes out from the shelter where she was helping Maison. Her eyes are wide, taking in the situation’s hostility, and I push down a wave of jealousy. I want to be with him at this moment.

Micah shakes his head and disappears into the dark. Ezra pauses, his body pulsing with Naomi by his side. “Fuck this,” he says, stomping toward our dried food. “I’m eating.”

Thomas is on him again, throwing him back. “No, you’re not. Micah says we need to save it. We’ll try as many times as it takes to kill something.” After a few tense seconds, Ezra backs down.

“Come on, Ezra,” Naomi grabs his waist and pulls him away. “Let’s take a walk, babe.”

I let out a shaky breath as Nigel walks up to me, his face like a feline. “I told you, London. You really fucked this one up.”

Walk away—walk away and breathe. I turn on my heels and run back to my shelter, where I curl up my knees and quit fighting the tears threatening all day. They pour out of me, my eyes burning from the dirt lingering on my face.

I can’t lose Maison, he’s all I have here.

My body has a tightness, the vast emptiness that surrounds me pressing in. It consumes… Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. Breathing is all I can do, and at least I have oxygen still filling my lungs. I think of my peers in their mass grave near the airplane. They aren’t so fortunate. Or perhaps they were…

I let the thought linger. This island is eating me alive, day by day, hour by hour. We are all slowly disintegrating.

I’m not sure how long I’m sleeping for, or if I am even sleeping, when footsteps crunch outside. I’m still sitting in the fetal position with my head dipped in between my knees, when a shadow hovers just outside. I lift my head and Micah crouches down in front of me, still wearing his black hood. I can’t make out his face in the night’s shadow, but I bet he’s scowling.

For once, he actually seems tired and defeated. His body language does, at the very least.

His voice is raw. “Maison woke up. He’s asking for you.”

I respond slowly and glance around expectantly, like he’s really talking to someone else. “Is he okay? What happened out there, Micah?”

A pause before he says, “Yeah, he’ll be alright. He’s not bleeding anymore. It was just a surface level scratch where the buck got him.”

I bite on my bottom lip. If it was my fault…

“I’m sorry… sorry if I caused it—”

“You didn’t,” he cuts me off. “He had a good angle, he just missed. It had nothing to do with you. I fucked it up; I wasn’t there to back him up like I should have been.”

I catch his face now, the sorrow in his eyes.

“Then Maison fainted,” he continues, “probably because of lack of food. Ezra’s mad because I called the hunt to get Maison back here.”

He nudges forward slightly and I flinch, and his eyes linger on me for a good, long second.

He chose his brother over eating. Even over the wellness of the rest of the group, he chose Maison. This is the part of their twin bond I see so strongly within them. It’s there, hidden, but there.

He jerks his head. “Come on.”

I scramble to get up and lean on his outstretched hand he offers to pull me up. He keeps his hand gripped on mine as he walks me over the ten feet to where his shelter is. The sun is set now, the night encasing us. I can hear the others at the fire a few feet away as Micah brings me to his brother. A small fire just outside provides ample light and a soft heat. He lets go of my hand and sits with the others.

I crawl straight inside toward Maison, who is lying on the elevated moss bough and a series of airplane blankets.

My heart stops at the sight of him. He’s wearing his gray sweater and sits up, propped on a pile of clothes beneath him. To me, it just looks like he woke up from a nap. The soft firelight elongates his dark lashes, and he gives me that cute smile I love so much about him.