Chapter 73

Conlan frowns at my pancakes and nods. “We could all get it this

time.” He nods again. “We could die.”

“You could,” he agrees. That’s not

exactly what I want to hear. With a wry grin, he adds, “This might

be the best place for you right now.”

“Not without Dylan,” I tell him, and

his smile fades. “Can’t you move him in here—”

“No.”

I try to rein in my anger. “Not even to this

corridor? Please—”

But Conlan shakes his head, adamant. “I

can’t. You have to understand—”

“Stop sayingthat!” I cry, and

before I can stop myself I grab the pillow beside me, launch it

across the room at him. It falls miserably short, though, landing

in the middle of my cell. “Jesus, stop telling me to understand.

What the hell is it you want me to get? That I’m supposed to rot in

this damn cell until you think it’s safe to let my friends in to

save me? That I’m supposed to stay here alone? What happens if you

all die out—what happens to me then? To Dylan?”